


The Color Of Our Planet From Far Far Away

by LonelyGirlInSpace



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Bilingual Lance (Voltron), Cuban Lance (Voltron), Female Pronouns for Pidge | Katie Holt, Gen, Hawaiian Hunk (Voltron), Hurt Lance (Voltron), Insecure Lance (Voltron), Lance (Voltron) Angst, Lance (Voltron) is a Mess, Lance (Voltron)-centric, Langst, Minor Hunk/Shay (Voltron), Protective Shiro (Voltron), Space Dad Shiro (Voltron), allura doesn't understand humans, everyone is trying really hard, oops did i say billingual i meant multilingual, she's trying I swear, they just never fckn sleep
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-18
Updated: 2017-06-23
Packaged: 2018-10-20 17:25:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 7
Words: 30,553
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10667349
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LonelyGirlInSpace/pseuds/LonelyGirlInSpace
Summary: A story in which Lance and the team has a lot of difficulties, because they don't sleep and sometimes make poor choices as a result and others are forced to suffer more than they deserve due to those poor choices.Or Lance gets hurt because the team didn't listen and everyone desperately wants to fix it.





	1. The Problem Child

Lance has a very large family.

That isn't a surprise to most people. It's pretty evident in just about everything he does. It's in the tender way he cares for Pidge, gently reminding her that she _needs sleep too, Dios, Pidgeon, you've been going at it for almost twenty hours now._ It's in the gentle way he comforts Hunk, assuring him that _it's ok to be anxious, it's ok to miss home, I'm here for you_. It's in the way he gently prods Keith, needling him and irritating him when the hotheaded boy is too worked up until finally _oh yeah, you think you can beat me, we'll see about that, let's go to the training deck_! It's in the way he sits quietly in the dining hall with Shiro long after he normally would've retired, as the strain of leadership and responsibility on a very damaged man shows itself in the haunted look in his eyes, and Lance is just a reassuring presence, exhausted but _it's fine, Shiro, I'm not tired, look at me, I hardly lack on beauty sleep._ It's in the way he begs to braid Allura's hair when she's tugging at her long, silvery locks nostalgically, and she's trying to hide her enthusiasm at the idea as he goes on _oh it's been so long you have such pretty hair and it's so soft too, damn Allura_! It's in the way he complains, but always, always complies when Coran beckons him to do some menial task, and the man tugs at his mustache and talks on and on about his home and _Coran that's really cool to hear, Altea sounds like it was a great place, tell me what the food tasted like_.

Yes, Lance is an older and a younger brother, with many relatives of all ages, and it's clear in the way he cares for his team, it's clear in the way he watches over them carefully, seeking out where he can be of help and tending carefully to anything at all they need- be it a shoulder to cry on, a sympathetic ear, a verbal punching bag or even a physical one. Lance will do it all. He's used to it. He enjoys it. He likes being useful, he likes knowing he's helping his team.

And he knows he's successful too, when they all go on and go about the whole saving the universe thing and even though sometimes their issues become too much, they always carry on, and they always work past it, with Lance's subtle help more often than not. He knows he's succeeded in being that ever so helpful middle sibling when they all overcome their problems at the end of the day- but he's stuck on his.

It's ok! It's fine! He's used to it! He always cared for his younger siblings, always lent a hand to his older siblings, and he rarely got a word of praise for any of it. His oldest little brother is only about a year younger, so he's never been the baby of the family. He's always been the middle child. He's used to being neglected, brushed aside, never praised because someone did it first and someone's going to do it again. His parents are wonderful, don't get him wrong, but c'mon. He's one of eight children. He never had a figure show up for his science fairs and that's ok. He helps out as much as he possibly can and he lets others get the praise and attention. That's his job. He's Lance, perpetual middle kid, and he's learned to deal.

For the most part. (Honestly, he doesn't need to talk about his suspected anxiety. Sure, he has all the symptoms and occasionally has intense panic attacks and stuff but he's probably exaggerating, doctors and therapists cost money that his parents never had, not even mentioning the time. He copes.)

Lance doesn't usually need the praise and stuff. He knows he helps, and he knows he's done some pretty cool things, but he doesn't need the recognition. The pride in himself is all he needs, which is why he projects it so often, and so loudly. And if he sometimes (always) lacks that too, that's on his own shoulders. The others don't need his emotional baggage.

He helps the others, and then, when he's alone, he reminds himself that he's done something good. He comforts his team. He's a good shot (he supposes all that practice with his father's hunting stuff paid off- his dad didn't like it, but Lance enjoyed it, and if the boy wasn't hurting himself or others, let him have his fun). He's pretty good at keeping calm in tense situations, and surprisingly even better at making up plans on the fly. He's saved some lives with this skill, he knows he has.

So why doesn't anyone else know it?

No, no, nope, not going down that road. Lance is fine with it. He can cope. He's good.

The point is, he has skills, he knows he does (and if he occasionally (often) forgets, Blue is pretty good at reminding him). (Seriously. What would he do without his lion?)

He's made peace with his reputation among the team, too. OK, so they don't always notice his efforts, fine. They mock him sometimes, that's cool, just friendly teasing. They stop taking him seriously and tend to brush off his suggestions? Cool, cool, it's cool, Shiro usually has better plans anyways.

Usually. Usually is the key word.

See, Lance may joke, and pretend not to listen, but he always pays attention to the battle plans. So, when Shiro and Allura and Pidge are all pretty much dead on their feet one day, even as they're forming a plan of attack, Lance notices.

These three are all very smart. Pidge is a fucking genius. She's only fourteen, but Dios that girl has skills. She's logical, analytical, and almost always catches any major flaws in plans. But she's gone a solid forty hours without sleep and she's tired and it's showing on her face.

Shiro is in a similar boat. He seems to have decided that he doesn't sleep unless the entire team is, too, so he's probably been up longer than Pidge. He functions pretty well without sleep, but he's not superhuman (probably). He's flailing pretty badly here.

He doesn't even know with Allura. He's not sure how much Alteans sleep, although it's certainly less than humans. Still, she's made multiple wormholes with little rest in between the past few days, so she's stretching it, too.

Their three greatest tacticians are at their very limit when they're making these battle plans. But it's ok, because he and Hunk are herding them out of the room.

"We're attacking tomorrow," Shiro says tiredly, "Get some rest, guys."

And their brilliant leader lets himself be led to his room by Hunk.

Lance is all but carrying Pidge from the room, as Allura and Coran and Keith all head off to rest (or train, although Lance hopes the red paladin takes a bit of a break too). He takes a worried glance at the plan they're making, before shaking his head. They're sleep deprived, but tomorrow, they'll look at it again and make a few changes. It can wait. They’re tired, he’s tired. He’s sure they’ll reevaluate come morning.

~

Lance doesn’t get a lot of sleep that night.

It’s alright, he’s slept fairly well these past few days. Well, that might be stretching it, but he’s at least gotten more sleep than some members of his team. And he’d really like to change that, so instead of going to bed, he makes rounds with the team. Pidge is first, and easiest. All he has to do is pry her laptop out of her hands, gently, and place a blanket over her, and she’s out cold in seconds.

Shiro is a bit more difficult. He ends up in a soft argument with the older man, almost shoving him towards his bed that Hunk tried to guide him to earlier. He then situates himself in front of his door, only leaving when he’s certain Shiro has finally gone to sleep.

Keith is, of course, the hardest, because that boy doesn’t know how to a damn thing except train and train and train. So Lance offers to train with him, in the hopes that he can get the already tired boy to the point where he’ll fall asleep more complacently.

Keith is not an easy person to train with, because damn does that boy have some skills! But Lance chooses the level, type, and terrain of the training sequence, and over the course of a half hour, he manages to wear the red paladin down quite a bit. Enough, at least, that when Lance decisively shuts off the training and announces that it’s bedtime, Keith only argues halfheartedly, and doesn’t even struggle as Lance grabs his hand and leads him towards his room. Like Pidge, as soon as Keith’s head hits the pillow, it’s lights out.

He knows Coran can take care of Allura, and the Altean will get himself to bed too. Coran is the only one he doesn’t feel the need to check on regularly, because he takes care of himself and others fairly well. By extension, he often skips Allura in his rounds, because he knows Coran always has an eye out for her. (There might be another reason he doesn’t seek out Allura often, and it might have something to do with the fact that she looks annoyed every time he so much as opens his mouth, but he tells himself it’s mostly just Coran.)

Instead, he seeks out Hunk. Hunk is usually pretty good about sleep, but sometimes, on the eves of great battles, the Hawaiian works himself up pretty good. He gets super anxious, and starts cooking to calm himself. So Lance isn’t surprised when he finds Hunk in the kitchens, whipping up something that smells delicious.

He manages to convince Hunk to go back to his room, with the promise that he’ll accompany him. They sit on Hunk’s bed, and talk about their families, about aliens they’ve visited (“You and Shay, hmmm?” Lance asks coyly at one point, raising his eyebrows suggestively. Hunk turns very red.), recipes Hunk is trying, and just about everything else they can think of. When Lance finally rises to leave, dimming the lights and placing a blanket over his friend, Hunk seems noticeably calmer, and seems to be on the verge of sleep.

“You get some sleep too, Lance,” Hunk murmurs as Lance steps out of the doors. Lance merely smiles at the boy, whose eyelids are fluttering shut.

By the time Lance has made it to his room, there are only a few hours left before the attack. Knowing he’ll regret it come morning, he doesn’t bother with his normal nightly routines, and instead just collapses on his bed. He falls into a fitful sleep, drifting in and out of consciousness until morning rolls around.

~

They gather in the control room shortly after breakfast. Tension is high, and Lance is very nervous. He knows the plan they made the night before isn’t exactly solid, and he actually has a few ideas on how to strengthen it considerably.

“So,” Shiro begins, “We all know the plan, right? We want to strike hard, and fast. This is a surprise attack, and if we do it right, the Galra won’t even see us coming.”

“Remember,” Allura says, “Pidge, you’re going in first. This is all about stealth, so be sure to time your lion’s invisibility right. Keith, wait for the signal, don’t just charge in. Hunk, breathe; there is nothing to be nervous about. Shiro, I have the utmost faith in you.”

She smiles at each of the paladins in turn. However, when the princess turns to Lance, her expression darkens considerably. “Lance, take this seriously, please.”

Ok, so that stings. A lot. But wait- aren’t they going to look at the plan again? There are several gaping holes in it! Don’t they remember how exhausted they were when they first created it? Just a few tweaks would go miles for their success probability. He’s waiting for someone to speak up about that, but no one does. Alright then. Here goes.

“Shouldn’t we… go over the plan again?” He suggests tentatively, hurrying to continue before someone can cut him off. “I mean, we were all pretty low on sleep last night. Might be helpful to-“

“Lance, were you not paying attention last night?” Shiro asks with a frown.

“No, I-“

“Typical,” Pidge snorts, “You’ve forgotten what you’re supposed to do, haven’t you.”

“No!” Lance protests, scowling, “I haven’t. I just think- Well, I had some ideas, to keep us undetected until the last minute. See, if we just had Hunk go along the right passageway instead, he might be able to give Pidge access to the cameras here, and then we would know-“

“Lance.” Shiro interrupts him firmly, and Lance wants to disappear under the weary, yet stern, gaze their leader is fixing on him. “Now is not the time for your ‘grand ideas’, ok? Can you do your part in this, or not?”

“Shiro, I really think-“

“Lance.”

“Shiro, really, there are some major flaws-“

“Lance!”

“The chance of Hunk getting caught with this plan is way too-“

“LANCE!”

Ok, Shiro looks really, genuinely angry now, and Lance feels incredibly small.

“This is serious!” Keith snaps.

“Honestly,” Pidge sighs.

“Can you do what we’re asking you to do or not?” Shiro demands, his voice leaving no room for argument. Feeling attacked, Lance nods silently. So be it. He has a really, really bad feeling about this whole plan, but his team has made themselves abundantly clear. His input is not appreciated in this matter. Fine.

He suits up, and heads to Blue without any more argument.

~

Lance is quite glad that Voltron is not required for this plan to work, because he’s pretty sure that they wouldn’t be able to assemble very well. Blue’s indignant rage on his behalf gives him that impression, anyways.

He’s surprised. Blue rarely expresses such negative emotions. Typically, he’s the one feeling angry, or upset, and she’s the one with a quiet perpetual calm, sending soothing thoughts his way whenever he gets too worked up. She’s the composed one, the lion that’s slow to anger, always gentle, fluid, smooth under the controls. Never jerky or out of control like Red sometimes gets when Keith is worked up.

But today, Blue listened in on the scene from his eyes, and while Lance feels like it was probably his fault, Blue is pissed as all hell at his team. Further, she seems confused that Lance doesn’t feel the same way.

Yes, trying to form Voltron would be difficult at this time.

The mission is going smoothly. Pidge, of course, timed Green’s invisibility perfectly, and she, Hunk, and Keith got in without a hitch. Lance and Shiro are to hide out, away from the Galra base, and await the beginning of the attack.

Even as he just sits there in Blue, he’s still got that little foreboding feeling, that little tingle at the back of his neck that’s whispering _something is wrong, check your six_. But try as he might, Lance can’t put his finger on it, and so he says nothing; he waits for his team.

Then Hunk lets out a little gasp of surprise, and Blue is giving him a glimpse of what Yellow is seeing through Hunk’s eyes, and before Shiro can even yell at him to stop, Lance bursts out of his cover and races towards the Galra base.

“Lance! What the hell?!” Shiro is shouting in his ear, as are Keith and Pidge, but he ignores them. He knows he just blew their cover and potentially ruined the mission, but what he saw through Hunk’s eyes, the fear he felt from Yellow, the urgency he feels from Blue even as they race through the sky, it’s far more important.

“Guys,” Hunk whispers over the comms, fear palpable in his voice, but only Lance hears; the others are too busy shouting at the blue paladin, and Shiro is on his tail, but also lagging behind. Black is angry at Blue, but whatever she’s telling her sister is apparently convincing enough that Black isn’t letting Shiro grab Blue just yet.

Blue crashes her head through the walls of the purple structure, and Lance grabs his bayard and leaps out, not hesitating for a second. As he exits, Blue sends him a concerned rumble, telling him to be careful, and Lance agrees halfheartedly, more focused on reaching the room Hunk is in.

He makes it there just in time to register the lightning arcing through the air towards the yellow paladin, spewing from the fingers of a cloaked druid. He makes it there just in time to see Hunk’s eyes widen, his frame frozen, caught in a panic attack. He makes it there just in time to leap in front of the blast, absorbing the shock, unable to old back an agonized scream, back arching as horrible, tainted electricity courses through his body.

Lance isn’t really sure what happens next. It’s kind of a blur, honesty. He vaguely hears someone shouting his name in a familiar voice, panic evident in the cry. He hears what sounds like a cannon blast, and sees a flash of light take out what he presume is the druid. Then, strong hands are on his shoulders, gently shaking them, pleading, and Lance blinks, unable to form a coherent thought, let alone words. He’s not sure what’s happening, just that whatever force is begging him now, it’s yellow.

By the team Lance manages to clear his head, two others have joined them, red and green. Lance blinks the dizziness out of his eyes until he can name them all.

“… and he just collapsed!” Hunk is explaining tearfully.

“We need to get out of here now,” Keith says forcefully, scowling.

“Keith’s probably, er, right,” Lance joins in the conversation, unable to keep his voice from slurring just a bit. Hunk turns to him in surprise and relief as he continues, “Think they’ve raised some alarms by now.”

As if on cue, seconds later alarms begin to blare through the room. Hunk quickly hugs Lance, and whispers, “Don’t scare me like that again, buddy.”

Lance smiles faintly against his shoulder, and then they’re back to business. Pidge looks really angry as Hunk tries to assess Lance’s condition. Briefly, Lance wonders what her deal is. Then he remembers that he just blew the entire mission. Whatever.

“I can walk, I can walk!” Lance insists, but he has to lean heavily on the yellow paladin. With a sigh of exasperation, Hunk just scoops him up, and the four dart from the room, going far faster than Lance would’ve been able to.

They reach the green lion only meeting a couple of patrols, which Keith and Pidge deal with no problem. As soon as they’re in Green’s cockpit, Lance braces himself for the shitstorm he knows is about to go down.

It doesn’t come, though. Keith still has that perpetually angry scowl in place, but it’s not directed at Lance like the blue paladin thought it would be. Instead, he’s just angrily staring out of the front of Green, his hand gripping the back of Pidge’s seat with more force than is probably necessary.

Lance turns to Hunk, and asks quietly, “How bad did I screw up the mission, exactly?”

Hunk smiles at him, “You didn’t screw up anything. You saved my life, which wouldn’t have been necessary if the others had just listened to you before. You were right that me just going in blind was a very stupid decision.”

“Yeah,” Lance waved down his friend’s reassurances, “But did Pidge get the information she needed about her family?”

Hunk’s smile falls slightly, and he shakes his head, “I don’t think it was there to begin with. She didn’t have time to download anything, but from what I heard about her skimming the files, there wasn’t anything particularly useful anyways.”

Lance sighs in relief. While it’s disappointing, to be sure, that Pidge still hadn’t found a lead, at least Lance hadn’t completely ruined anything for her. Now, all he has to dread is facing Shiro and Allura. Hunk had removed his helmet for him, and the yellow paladin had removed his own helmet too, so neither of them are listening to the comms. But if what Shiro is saying is having any effect on either the green or red paladins’ expressions, then it can’t be good.

“I think I’m in for a lot of shit when we get back,” Lance murmurs, and Hunk only pats his back, unable to disagree.

When Green lands in the hangar, Keith and Pidge immediately run over to Lance.

“C’mon,” Pidge says, “We should get you to the infirmary, Lance.”

“I’m fine!” Lance protests, but what he’s saying holds very little persuasiveness when he stands, and begins to sway on the spot.

“Yeah. We can tell,” Keith replies flatly, even as he leaps to support Lance. Pidge takes his other side, as Hunk goes ahead to confront Shiro.

“Sorry for ruining the mission,” Lance murmurs to the others as they make their way out of the green hangar. Coran joins them almost immediately, but the advisor doesn’t say anything, and his normally expressive face is carefully masking any emotions he might feel as he gives Lance a gentle pat on the back.

“You didn’t ruin the mission,” Pidge says, but there’s anger in her voice, and Lance doesn’t believe her for a second. They walk in silence, all the way to the infirmary, before they deposit Lance on a bed.

When Allura storms in moments later, Hunk pleading at her heels and Shiro looking conflicted, Lance shrinks back. Allura’s expression is positively thunderous.

Coran intercepts her before she reaches Lance.

“Now, hold just a tick, princess,” he says, twirling his mustache nervously, “Lance was hit by a blast of druid magic- we ought to make sure he’s alright before we do anything too rash, yeah?”

At these words, Allura seems to compose herself, and she gives a short nod. Coran busies himself performing scans and running diagnostics on Lance, and there’s loaded silence in the room.

When Coran steps away, Lance’s head has cleared almost completely, and although he still feels strange, he’s confident he can walk and talk normally.

“Well,” Coran says, “I can’t seem to find any residual energy from that blast- perhaps it was meant specifically for Hunk.”

Allura seems to take that as permission to advance on Lance.

“Do you have any idea,” she seethes, her voice dangerously quiet, “how dangerous that was for the team? With a stunt like that, you put everyone in danger! You deliberately blew our cover, and with a lion down, we were forced to retreat! It’s a quiznacking lucky thing that Blue followed us to the castle on her own, or we might very well have lost her! Paladins are expected to put the lives of their teammates above their own, but that, you did the opposite! Lance, you are normally quite selfish and idiotic, but this! What do you have to say for yourself?”

By the end of her tirade, the princess is shouting, and Lance has shrunk back in fear and shame. He has nothing to say for himself. He doesn’t regret what he did, but he also knows none of them trust his intuition. They would never believe him if he tried to explain himself. And Allura isn’t wrong that he did blow the mission.  

“Well?” Allura asks again, forcefully. There’s silence, and Allura’s rage is building up even more. Just as she’s about to go off again, a small but determined voice stops her.

“That doesn’t seem very fair,” Pidge says.

The princess whirls to face her, indignantly exclaiming, “Excuse me?!” at the same as Shiro sends a look with a very clear meaning in her direction.

But Pidge ignores them. “They didn’t even have what we came for, so it’s not like Lance screwed anything like that up. Not to mention the fact that he fucking saved Hunk’s life. I feel like that should probably weigh in here at some point.”

“Language,” Shiro admonishes, but he looks conflicted once more, like he’s considering what Pidge is saying. Lance is looking at her in surprise. She’s still got that angry scowl, one that’s matching Keith’s, but both of them are glaring at Allura, not him. It’s… odd, to say the least.

“She’s right,” Keith agrees, “Shiro, you had to have seen what Yellow told everyone, right?”

“Yes, but… he still endangered everyone else,” Shiro says quietly.

“Exactly!” Allura says her voice still full of anger, “It’s the kind of disobedience for direct orders that cannot be excused!”

“Even in life or death situations?” Hunk questions, “That doesn’t seem right.”

Allura looks indignant that so many paladins would dare defy her. But the clocks that Pidge rigged up to mirror Earth clocks and give them some sense of a routine are getting late. They should be eating supper by now. Lance hadn’t realized that the mission had taken up so much of the day, but if they were on Earth, the sun would be setting right now.

“Let’s get some food goo, shall we?” Coran suggests, ever the diplomat, “We can resume this conversation in the morning, after everyone’s slept on it.”

Everyone agrees, although Allura doesn’t look happy about it. “Fine,” she says, “We shall adjoin in the morning, then.”

As they all disperse, some to get food and some to train and some to bed, Hunk goes over to Lance.

“You didn’t do anything wrong, y’know,” the yellow paladin says gently, “If not for you, I might not even be standing here.”

“Thanks, Hunk,” Lance says, smiling tiredly at him.

“Want me to whip something up for us?”

“Nah, I’m gonna head back to my room. Need my beauty rest, y’know?” Lance smiles at him again, hoping to soothe Hunk’s worried frown, and leaves quickly.

He reaches his room fairly easily, and, exhausted after all of the events of today (although they went by so fast) he collapses on his bed, once more not bothering with his routine. Well, whatever. He’ll get back into it when everything has settled down more.

~

Lance’s dreams are fragmented, and frightening. Multicolored shadows leer at him from the sidelines as he runs, but he doesn’t know what he’s running from, or why. A sense of overarching fear has overcome all of his other instincts, and the shadows looming around him seem to be getting bigger. Lance runs faster, or at least tries to, but quickly finds that he’s running in place. He’s stuck, and the thing that he’s running from is getting closer and closer and Lance can’t escape he’s trapped there’s nothing he can do it’s over it’s all over and the monster stands over him with a frightening grin and Lance screams but there’s no one to hear and the shadows are laughing and laughing and laughing and…

~

Lance wakes with a start, drenched in sweat and breathing heavily. He glances over at the clock he convinced Pidge to install on his wall. It’s still the early hours of the morning, long before anyone else will be awake.

He breathes, deeply. He can’t remember much of his dream, only that it felt wrong. That same wrong feeling seems to have followed him into the waking world. The slight dizzy headache of before has returned, and as Lance calms himself, he swings his legs over the edge of the bed. He could use a glass of water.

He slips on his slippers, smiling slightly as he feels Blue hum in the back of his mind. He brushes off her concerns, and pads silently down the hall. He’s done this enough that he doesn’t need to activate any of the lights- he can find his way to the food hall in the dark.

However, he hasn’t even made it halfway before that feeling- the sense of wrongness surrounding, well, everything- catches up to him. Suddenly, he can’t breathe. Yes, there’s something very, very wrong here, and he can only gasp for air as the world around him somehow gets even darker, and he’s falling, falling, falling away…


	2. The Protective Father

Shiro has a lot of nightmares, typically.

He doesn’t sleep well, and has therefore been forced to become quite accustomed to going without it. He averages maybe four or five hours a night, and that’s usually only on the nights that Lance sits with him, calming his fears and anxieties just by being near. He’s incredibly grateful that the boy takes the time to do this, and he keeps reminding himself that he needs to actually vocalize this to Lance sometime. It means more than he ever lets on.

But, Lance went through a lot the previous day. Shiro still is unsure how to feel about it all, or whose side to take. After all, Lance did jeopardize the mission. He blew their cover, and forced them into a hasty retreat before Pidge could even snag what they came for. (Admittedly, from the sound of it, what they came for wasn’t even there in the first place, but Shiro’s not sure that that matters.)

On the flip side, Hunk was definitely in danger. They sent him into that room in search of the control room, and instead, he walked right into a trap. Shiro also remembers that Lance had made some suggestions that morning, too. Trying to avoid sending Hunk in completely blind. But Shiro had been nervous about the mission, and stressed from lack of sleep, and he’d shot him down without even hearing him out.

What was it Lance had suggested? Something about sending Hunk down the right hallway, instead of the central one, in order to grant Pidge access to the cameras first? Now that Shiro actually took a half second to think about it, that definitely wasn’t a bad idea. It would’ve given them a lot more insight on what they were dealing with. If Shiro had been as coherent as he would’ve liked to be, he might’ve even suggested something like that himself.

But he hadn’t been, and he didn’t, and Lance had jeopardized the mission because Hunk had been in danger due to their own oversights.

Allura seemed adamant that Lance’s behavior was inexcusable- after all, it was clear insubordination. But Shiro isn’t sure that that should apply here. This isn’t a military camp. These are a bunch of kids, and they all care enough for each other that they’re practically family. Everyone in the family should be comfortable enough to voice opinions and doubts, too. But no, Lance had spoken his mind, and everyone had shot him down immediately. That was pretty unfair. Sure, the kid can be loud, overbearing, and frankly obnoxious at times, but he also brings a certain easiness, a lightness to the team that they all sorely need. One that they all sorely missed on the mission. Lance had been quiet, brooding, and they had all been more tense as a result. Shiro blames himself.

Yeah. Ok. Now that he’s thought things over, he’s going to have to side with Lance. They shot him down, refused to listen, and he’d been forced to take extreme measures to keep his friends safe.

Honestly, though, watching Lance practically lose it like that had been alarming, to say the least. Blue had shot up without warning, and Lance was silent, completely unresponsive to everything the team tried to tell him. Shiro had pulled up a video feed, but Lance had ignored it entirely. He’d look almost deranged, crazed with fear for his friend- whom none of them had realized was in danger until after Lance had leapt in front of that druid’s blast.

And then after, when none of the others would respond to him and Lance’s vitals that Black displayed on his dash were really really weird, that had also been pretty stressful.

It had been a tough day. By the time Pidge updated him to what was going on, he was pissed, and he felt even more exhausted than usual. Couldn’t one mission, just one mission go exactly as planned? Was that too much to ask for? Apparently.

And then Allura. Shiro loves her as much as he loves the other paladins, but Christ, her reaction seemed way over the top. He understands that she’s been fighting in this war for practically her entire life, and she takes everything very seriously, but he sometimes feels she needs a reminder that most of them are children. Hell, Shiro is 25, but he barely feels like an adult himself! He’s tried to step up and be the leader they need, but god, what a job.

So, yeah. Allura is being a bit harsh on this particular matter. He makes a mental note to tell her as much tomorrow, before they talk it out as a group.

Scratching at his door startles him out of his thoughts.

Unable to sleep for fear of his nightmares returning, Shiro had been simply laying on his bed, contemplating the day’s events. Now, there’s a noise at his door he’s never heard before. He snatches his bayard from the shelf by his bed before sitting up and opening the door.

Shiro frowns, stepping back, as he sees… no one. There’s no one there. What the hell? Then, he hears a squeaking, and looks down to see two of the four space mice standing anxiously at his feet. It’s the pink and the green one (Chuchule and Plachu, if he remembers what Allura said their names were correctly). They’re making sounds of distress, and from the way they keep touching his feet, then darting to the door and looking up at him anxiously, Shiro surmises they want him to follow.

Back on Earth, Shiro has never been a big fan of mice, or rodents in general. Not that he encountered them often, but they were a nuisance to take care of on the flight to Kerberos. (He wonders what happened to those mice. Did the Galra do something with them? Despite his annoyance, he kind of hopes they’re ok.) However, he does have some fond memories with his mother involving mice. Every couple of years, they would get a few mice in the house. She would always be so careful to set non-lethal traps for them, and when she caught them, she’d show them to him.

“See?” she would say in Japanese, “They are not harmful, Takashi. They just want to survive, like every living creature.”

She would smile at the mice in the same way she smiled at other animals she saw out and about- full of such love and respect that it always astonished Shiro. And then they’d drive some distance away before releasing the mice into the forest. So, he might not particularly like mice, but he holds respect for them along with all creatures just like his mother taught him, and the space mice seem more sentient than regular mice. Ignoring the fact that it’s two am, he tosses his bayard back onto his bed and follows them.

He hits the castle hallway lights on his way out, and strides after the mice, who are surprisingly fast for their tiny size. The other two mice (Platt and Chulatt, he thinks) join them about when he’s passing Keith’s door. Shiro frowns. He’s got a bad feeling about this.

When he sees the collapsed form on the ground, he starts in surprise, and then dashes over quickly. Lance is feverish, trembling and murmuring in what sounds like Spanish. He’s completely unresponsive to Shiro’s grabbing and turning him on his back.

“Lance!” Shiro cries, “C’mon, buddy, you’re ok, you’re ok.”

Lance still doesn’t react, even as Shiro feels his forehead and pulls him onto his lap.

“Shit,” he murmurs, and he’s reminded vividly of a certain explosion, and the same hurt, unresponsive boy. But they have healing pods now, and Shiro is pretty sure there’s not a Galra threat at the moment.  

“Wake Allura and have her alert the others,” he says quickly to the mice, hoping they’ll understand. To his relief, they nod, and scurry off quickly. He’ll have to find some way to thank them, later. He’s significantly fonder of mice at this point.

He looks over Lance’s body, and his worry is only somewhat alleviated by the fact that he cannot find a physical wound. He thinks of the druid magic that Coran had dismissed earlier as doing no lasting damage. Well, clearly, it’s doing some lasting damage.

Hoping he’s not hurting Lance, Shiro carefully lifts the boy into his arms, fireman style. He winces as Lance let out a small gasp, but other than that, Lance doesn’t respond. He’s still trembling. As quickly as he can without jolting the boy around, Shiro makes his way back to the infirmary. He lays Lance down on a bed, not sure what to do next except wait for the others to arrive.

To say he’s relieved when Coran darts in a few seconds later is an understatement. Lance’s condition is unchanged, and Shiro is terrified, to say the least. He needs someone who actually knows what he’s doing.

“Oh thank God,” Shiro breathes as Coran takes only a second to evaluate the situation before jumping into action with the same scanners he used earlier. As Coran runs diagnostics over the unconscious boy, Lance begins to get louder. His head whips back and forth, his limbs flail, and he’s speaking rapid, jumbled Spanish.

“What’s happening?” Hunk asks Coran desperately, and Shiro whips around. He hadn’t even noticed the yellow paladin entering the room. “What’s wrong with him?”

Keith, Pidge, and Allura are not far behind, and each comes barreling into the infirmary in distress.

“What’s going on?” Pidge questions, exhausted but also quite worried.

Coran finishes his exams with a weary sigh, and turns to face the princess and paladins, even as Lance continues to thrash on the bed behind him. “A residual effect of the druid’s magic. I didn’t pick it up earlier because it was so slight. Now, however, it appears to have, er, multiplied.”

“So, let’s put him in a healing pod,” Keith says, in a tone that suggests he’s confused why they haven’t already.

“I’m afraid it’s not that simple, my boy,” Coran says sadly, “The healing pods can only repair physical damages. This, while it may have started as something in his bloodstream, has become an affliction of the mind. We have gone past the point where it may be remedied with the pods.”

There’s silence as they absorb this information. Shiro is distressed. He noticed Lance looked tired after the mission. He should’ve suggested that they put Lance in a pod regardless of how he claimed to be feeling. He should’ve insisted someone monitor Lance, just to make sure nothing like this happened. Lance was hit by druid magic, for Christ’s sake! Of course there are going to be repercussions! He doesn’t know how he could’ve just let Lance play it off- especially when the boy has a history of downplaying his own conditions.

Once, a few months ago, the castle’s inhabitants had been stricken with a bout of what they later dubbed ‘Space flu’. Lance had been the first one afflicted, but for the entire first three days, none of them knew. They could all tell something was up with the normally energetic blue paladin, but he worked so hard to hide it, play it off as fine, that they didn’t even realize he was sick until he fainted after a grueling training session. He’d woken after only a few seconds, but by then they’d all clustered around him, and felt his forehead, and when he vomited almost immediately upon waking up, Shiro realized.

A few days later, Coran had his arms full as every single other person got sick, too. Lance recovered first, due to being inflicted first, and he was a great help during that unpleasant week. But the sheer shock of Lance’s unexpected illness, seemingly out of the blue, left Shiro shaken. He felt like he should’ve seen that before Lance fainted- he should have realized. It left him realizing perhaps he didn’t know his team as well as he thought.

And now this. Shiro is struck with the same feeling of helpless confusion. He should’ve anticipated this, should’ve seen it coming. But he didn’t, and once again his teammate is in danger due to Shiro’s oversights. Is he even fit to be a leader?

No. No, these thoughts are unproductive. Right now, Lance is the priority. Shiro won’t let him down again just because he’s stewing in self-pity. He wants to help. He wants to actually do something this time around.

“What can we do?” Shiro asks Coran, a familiar determination alighting in his chest.

Coran glances over at Lance, who still lays there unchanged, unconscious but still moving in a way that’s frankly extremely concerning, to put it lightly.

“Right now, I’d wager Lance is in a dream state,” Coran says, frowning, “Trapped in his own head, if you will. You said something about Yellow warning you all, didn’t you, Keith? Can you elaborate?”

Keith hesitates, unsure what to say, and Shiro speaks instead. “As Hunk met the druid, Yellow sent out some kind of distress signal. I’m afraid I didn’t pay much attention to it, as I was focused on what Lance was doing at the time, but I guess Lance was the one listening to the signal.”

“What did the lion say, exactly?” Allura asks, sounding troubled. She seems far calmer than she had the previous evening, and as concerned about their blue paladin as the rest of them.

“Yellow doesn’t really speak in words,” Hunk explains, frowning, “But she kinda told me that, I dunno, I was in a lot of danger, I guess. From the sound of it, I think that magic stuff would’ve affected me differently than it has Lance. Yellow thinks I might’ve died.”

Allura and Coran exchange looks that Shiro doesn’t understand. Clearly, he’s not the only one in the dark as Pidge exclaims, “Can you maybe tell us what it fucking means instead of being all cryptid about it?”

Shiro doesn’t even bother to correct her language right now.

“It’s… We’re not sure what it means, to be honest,” Allura says uncertainly, biting her lip, “I’ve never heard of druid magic acting differently based on who it hits. What happened to the druid in question?”

“I shot at it and it disappeared,” Hunk replies.

“Just like that?” Allura questions, fixing her gaze on Hunk, “Nothing else happened with it?”

“I mean, it spoke to me before it attacked,” Hunk answers hesitantly, “But it didn’t really say anything important. It was just trying to scare me, I think. And it worked.”

“It was stalling,” Allura mumbles, looking back to Coran, “It somehow knew Lance was coming. The blast was meant for him to begin with.”

Coran seems to have reached the same conclusion, as he continues for the princess, “Hunk was in danger, perhaps, because the druid had no qualms about killing him, because it wasn’t after him. Oh dear.”

“That doesn’t make sense,” Shiro interjects, frowning, “Why would it target Lance, specifically? And more importantly, how do we help Lance?”

“I’m unsure on the answer to the first question, but I might have a smidge of an idea on how to find it.” Coran looks significantly at Allura. “The interdimensional cerebrum connectors, yeah?”

Allura’s bright turquoise eyes almost seem to flash in a cartoon-esque way as she meets Coran’s gaze. “Oh. Using the headbands… yes, that might well give us what we need to know. Only wouldn’t it be quite…”

“I’m certain they would risk it for the boy,” Coran assures her, even though the normally chipper man doesn’t look happy about whatever they’re talking about. Allura still looks troubled, and Coran makes a peculiar gesture, crossing his pointer and middle fingers together and pressing them against his cheek, intertwined. This seems to calm Allura, if only slightly.

Shiro wishes he’d taken as much time as Lance to investigate Altean culture. Shiro had been raised in a biracial family, his mother Japanese and his father American. He spoke English and Japanese fluently, but he’d been teased about his heritage enough in school that quite frankly, he’d never had even the slightest desire to learn in-depth about another culture. His school had offered multiple languages, but Shiro had passed them all up, preferring instead to study his true passions- science and astronomy. (He’d wanted to touch the stars since before he’d started school. He’d always felt inexplicably drawn towards them, and had known before he was even in high school that he wanted to go to the Garrison. Now, Shiro wonders if that was Black, calling out to him before even they’d first connected.)

Lance, in contrast, seems to have adored his multiracial backround. Shiro only knows this because of the mind-melding headband exercise- the mix of Cuban and American ancestry was apparent, and Lance had mentioned it in passing. He had also revealed that he spoke multiple languages. Shiro had never asked how many, but besides his native Spanish and easily fluent English, Shiro has heard enough to determine he was passable in both Japanese and French (Keith and Pidge both spoke a bit of French from high school, apparently). Where Lance had found the time to study so many, he didn’t know, but it impressed Shiro nonetheless. As soon as he found out about the program, Lance had jumped on the chance to study Altean as well- and he’d picked it up even faster than Pidge.

Sometimes Shiro forgets how brilliant their blue paladin really is. He can strategize quite well.  He’s great at chess, according to Hunk, and he can read people like a book. He's a damn good shot. His tendency to joke and flirt and have way too much energy sometimes makes Shiro forget that Lance is easily as skilled as Keith and Pidge and Hunk- just in different ways. The guilt of dismissing him the previous morning (and not for the first time) weighs more heavily on Shiro than ever.

“What will the headbands do?” Pidge demands. If Shiro knows one thing for certain about the green paladin, it’s that she absolutely detests not knowing something.

“They won’t solve anything,” Allura says carefully, “And it’ll be a massive invasion of privacy. But if we can see what Lance is seeing, we may be able to determine how to pull him out of it.”

“Can we use the headbands to _actually_ pull him out of it?” Hunk asks excitedly.

Allura shakes her head sadly. “The headbands merely provide the users with a glimpse into others’ minds. It does not allow contact, nor interaction on the mental level. They’re also not meant to be used with unwilling participants. Lance cannot filter what he shows us if he is not conscious.”

“That sounds… really bad,” Keith mumbles, and Shiro looks towards him sympathetically. He knows the red paladin is very keen on privacy, and respect for other’s personal space. It’s part of the reason he conflicted with Lance so often in the beginning. However, Shiro is very proud of how much better Keith has been about opening himself up to others since they’ve been in space.

“If it’s all we can do to help Lance, I don’t see that we have much of a choice,” Pidge says honestly, “Clearly, this isn’t their normal lighting shit.”

“Ah, the princess didn’t mention the risk towards your persons, however,” Coran says hurriedly, like he has to catch them before they sprint for the headbands then and there. “Like she said, Lance cannot filter what he shares. This means if there’s anything traumatic in his past, or he’s seeing anything particularly bad, you will be just as exposed to it, and may even be subject to the emotions or pain he feels.”

They all reel slightly at this news, but Shiro knows it’s not enough to change anyone’s minds. They’re all in this for the long haul, and no amount of danger is going to stop them from doing everything they can to help Lance.

“It doesn’t matter,” Hunk states firmly, as if he’s reading Shiro’s mind, “We do it for Lance.”

“That’s right,” Shiro agrees, throwing one more look behind his shoulder. Lance has stopped moving- instead, he’s back to the trembling and mumbling. Shiro doesn’t know which is worse. He feels a certain fraternal instinct flare up inside of him at the sight of the helpless boy. Lance is like a little brother to him, and Shiro will do everything he can to help him. The debate over whether Lance should be punished for protecting Hunk that they’d had the last night seems incredibly foolish. Lance had done what he’d had to do, despite the risks, and now they were going to do the same.

“For Lance,” Shiro says with finality.

~

_Truly_ , Haggar thinks as she observes the golden fluid sloshing in containers lining the walls, _Truly quintessence knows no boundaries_.

The only boundaries she has discovered thus far are entirely self-imposed, and it takes little work to get around them. She is incredibly pleased with how well her latest invention turned out. Figuring out a way to harness the quintessence such as to see the very future itself? Now that is what true, absolute power looks like.

When she thinks of Zarkon on his petty throne, she scoffs. Well over ten thousand years ago, when she’d been but a young Altean maiden with only a silver tongue and a devious plot at her side, she’d fooled the naïve black paladin into turning his lust for glory into lust for power. She’d fed him the pretty words he needed to hear, watched in satisfaction as his contentment with his fellow paladins fell away into an insatiable greed for more. She’d stood by his side as he slaughtered first the Galran king, in order to assume the throne, and then his paladins. She’d laughed as Zarkon had stabbed his friends without a hint of pity or remorse in his eyes. Without a hint of weakness. And from him, she’d even wheedled the pleasure of slaughtering the blue paladin- that Galra who’d taken her destiny from her- with her own bare hands. They’d gone on to destroy the society Haggar came from- the society Haggar despised and despises still with everything she has- and Haggar had never felt such pleasure as she had that quintent, watching the planet be destroyed. Zarkon is merely a figurehead. He commands the armies, he gives the empowering and frankly insufferable speeches to the masses. But it’s Haggar who truly holds the power, watching from the sidelines and manipulating the great emperor as she pleases. The fools who dare mention her role to Zarkon are quickly destroyed, and they all soon learn that Haggar is the true one to fear. Zarkon, the blustering idiot that he is, has never even begun to realize.

Even if he did, Haggar can destroy him in seconds should it become convenient for her to do so. He is important to the game she plays now because the paladins think he is the one they need to defeat. But she is the one who harnesses quintessence itself to not only extend her and Zarkon’s life, but to keep the power lying with the empire as well.

Since she created a machine with which to peer into the vortex of time itself, she has been planning. She’s learned, through countless trial, that the blue paladin (oh, she truly detests the very color itself) will willingly sacrifice himself for any he perceives to be in peril. From that measly bit of information, she devised a plan.

Now, it has all been carried out. She waits only for the druid she selected to perform this task to return to her.

She does not turn at the slight spark she registers behind her. She has dwelled in this society for ten thousand years. She knows their customs. And she knows that when one of weaker status is presenting themselves to one of higher, they make themselves visible to their superior. Their superior does not lower themselves to turn. That would suggest they are willing to go to even a miniscule length to meet their inferior’s efforts.

So she waits expectantly as the druid comes into her field of vision, and bows her head to Haggar.

“It is as you said,” she says in a low, rasping voice, “The blue one sensed the danger, and I gave him enough time to sacrifice himself. He is out of commission.”

Haggar does not laugh. She does not feel the same emotions and pleasures that petty Galra or Altean scum do. She is above them, above even Zarkon although she has not told him that, and she will act as is according. So even as she feels a wicked delight coursing through her veins, she does not so much as smile. Instead, she spins to the door.

“Excellent,” she says, her voice low yet projecting throughout the entire dwelling, “Then it is time to align the next phase. You shall attend to arranging the droids. I shall inform Zarkon myself.”

The spark she senses in the movement of the quintessence behind her appears again, and Haggar knows her subordinate has already gone to obey her. Here, they do not question. They do not even waste time confirming. They act.

Haggar strides through the door in confidence. Yes, it is time to act indeed. Voltron will not trouble them for much longer.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First of all, every single comment left on this work was honestly really touching, and I want to thank every single person who left one from the bottom of my heart. It means a lot. I was not expecting this much support, this fast. I'm almost nervous to publish this chapter, because shit, I don't wanna disappoint anyone.   
> But. Well. Here it is. Hope it doesn't suck.   
> Second. I am exploring a shit ton of my own headcanons within this story, many of which are shared amongst the fandom. These headcanons involve not just Lance, but also the other paladins.   
> If you're curious about any of the shit I talk about, or why I talk about it in the first place, feel free to ask me questions about the story at my tumblr http://spaceisgaygayisspace.tumblr.com/   
> I promise I'll answer everything that isn't a spoiler.   
> Thanks for reading!


	3. The Rebellious Teenager

Keith has never been religious.

No, he’s had far too many families with a variety of beliefs to commit to any specific one. When he was younger, sure, he’d go to church every Sunday, or perform the rites before bed, or whatever else his foster parents wanted him to do. But as he kept getting into trouble, and no one kept him, no one ever gave him a second chance, he came to realize that he had no idea what he believed in. With so many religions in the world, there’s no way he could ever take a guess as to which one is even slightly correct.

And if he were to commit to a God? Well, Keith highly doubts he could worship Him. He’s been through too much shit to be grateful or pray or thank any higher power for his lot in life. Nah, if there’s a God, Keith is pissed as all hell at him. He’ll never be religious. And that doesn’t bother him.

Well, for the most part. It’s times like this- when his friend is laying there potentially dying from some weird druid magic that Keith wishes he had that absurd faith in a higher power. He knows Shiro was raised Christian by his father. He’s pretty sure Hunk has a god, or gods, although they’ve never discussed it. He wishes he had someone to pray to, some faith that a higher power is looking out for him.

Or, at the very least, that a higher power is looking out for Lance.

Common misconception: Keith doesn’t dislike Lance. He knows it might look that way sometimes, most because Lance is annoying and obnoxious and overbearing and- well. Anyways. But Lance is family to Keith.

This strange, hodge-podge group of people thrown together has become incredibly important in Keith’s life, in a way he’s never experienced before. Shiro was like a big brother to him at the Garrison, immediately taking the younger boy under his wing. That was the first time Keith had ever known family. When Shiro was gone, Keith had fallen apart. But now, with not only Shiro back, but Pidge and Hunk and Allura and Coran and Red and Lance all supporting him, he’s happy.

He can’t remember being happy like this before.

So no, Keith doesn’t dislike Lance. Lance is a part of Keith’s new impromptu family now, whether he wants to be or not. The idea of losing Lance is appalling, and Keith can’t imagine it. It’d be like losing Shiro all over again. Keith doesn’t think he can go through that again.

This is the closest Keith has come to praying in a very long time.

Keith’s distracted from his thoughts when Allura and Coran reappear, carrying a box of equipment that Keith recognizes as the mind-melding headbands. Coran begins to set them up, as Allura hurries over to Lance. Pain washes over the Altean woman’s face as she carefully arranges a headband around his temple. If Lance dies, Allura will never forgive herself for how she last spoke to him.

Keith understands this, because it’s how he felt when Shiro vanished. Their last conversation before Shiro had gone into space had been a fight. Keith doesn’t even remember what it was about, but when several months later, Keith found out that Shiro was supposedly dead? Well.

He knows exactly what Allura is going through.

As she walks back over to the group, Keith pats her shoulder gently. He’s not great with words and comfort- not like Lance is- but he thinks he gets his message across when she smiles gently at him.

“Alright, paladins,” Allura announces, clapping her hands together, “Remember, Lance cannot filter what he throws at you, but you are looking for something specific- you are looking for what he is currently thinking about, not random memories and emotions that may be drifting around. I doubt he is on the surface level currently, so you may have to dig. Do not worry about harming him. You cannot. Do keep in mind he can hurt you, however, and you must attempt to separate yourself enough to retain presence of mind to retreat if necessary.”

Keith places his own headband on his head, positioning it in the most comfortable way possible as he sits cross-legged on the ground. They’ve only done deeper exercises with the headbands once before, and that was only to access emotions. Keith remembers feeling slightly surprised at Lance’s melancholy mood at the time. The boisterous boy had brushed it off, saying he was feeling particularly homesick and it was nothing to worry about. Keith didn’t have enough of a home back on Earth to feel homesick for, so he let Hunk and Shiro handle the comforting shit afterwards.

Every other time they’ve used the headbands, it’s been completely surface level, just the present thoughts and emotions. They’ve never attempted to sift through each other’s memories like this, and Keith feels guilty, like he’s violating Lance’s trust. But he also knows they don’t have a choice.

“Good luck, paladins!” Coran says, with more enthusiasm than Keith feels is appropriate for the situation, and then they’re starting, and everything goes dark.

~

 A small boy skips down a sidewalk, a schoolbag slung on his shoulders and a jar clutched to his chest. His excitement is almost palpable. After all, he’s just won first place at the science fair, and all on his own, too! He did all of the research, found the supplies, and created his little lava lamp independently, and boy is he proud. He really feels he earned this ribbon his teacher gave him, and he can’t wait to show Mamá! He’s sure she’ll agree.

He can almost imagine what she’ll say. She doesn’t always notice what he does, but for this-

Wait. Wait, no, no. The boy with the science fair ribbon is Lance, and the boy watching it play out is Keith. Keith draws back, taking a moment to collect himself. Lance’s thoughts and emotions are strong enough that at first, Keith wasn’t able to separate his consciousness from whatever memory they’re in.

If he reaches, Keith can feel the other paladins’ minds. He’s not sure whether they got confused in the same way he did, but they seem to be watching the same memory, anyways. Keith knows what the princess said- they’re supposed to be finding Lance’s current thoughts. This definitely isn’t it. Keith isn’t sure how he knows, but he does.

However, Keith doesn’t know how to move on. He doesn’t know how to brush away this memory and continue the search through Lance’s consciousness, and neither of the others seem to be making any sort of effort to leave that Keith can sense. OK. So it looks like they’re just letting the memories play out.

Lance is younger in this memory, maybe ten or so, but still undeniably Lance. Besides the obvious light brown skin and ocean blue eyes, he’s wearing that smirk he sometimes puts on. It’s not the cocky, arrogant smirk, though; it’s the smaller one that actually doesn’t infuriate Keith. It’s the one he has whenever Shiro compliments his shooting skills, or when Pidge approves of a plan he makes, or when Hunk makes a dish that tastes like something from Earth. It’s the genuine one, the one that makes his whole face seem softer. And it’s nice to see him wearing it so freely.

Memory Lance’s emotions, while now distinct from Keith’s, are still easily accessible. Keith can feel his eagerness to reach his home. Keith, however, doesn’t share the emotion, and instead takes a moment to look around. The air is warm, and humid, and Keith can taste the ocean in the slight breeze. He remembers Lance mentioning Veradera beach at one point, but Keith has never been to Cuba. He doesn’t know if this is where they are or not. The neighborhood they’re in is quite pretty, with green plants everywhere and houses of multiple bright colors and sizes.

Lance stops in front of a two-story sky blue house. The lawn is a rich emerald, and slightly overgrown. It’s littered with scooters and bikes, and the driveway is adorned with sidewalk chalk. The paint of the house itself is peeling slightly, and the screen door refuses to close completely, instead banging against the doorframe in tune with the wind. It’s a family home through-and-through, the kind Keith has never had.

Lance pushes through the door without hesitation, and tosses his bag onto a pile of others. Keith can hear chatter and music resounding from various directions. It’s distracting, and odd, but Lance is on a mission, and Keith goes where he goes.

“Mamá!” Lance calls determinedly, peeking through doorways as he makes his way down the clutter-filled hall. From a room at the very end of it comes a sound of affirmation, and Lance grins as he darts forward, still holding his ribbon-bearing science project against his chest.

When Keith sees the kitchen, he feels rather alarmed. It’s just so… busy. A light-skinned woman with frizzy short brown hair holds a baby girl on her hip at the same time as she stirs a bubbling pot on a stove and scolds a young boy by her feet. A taller man and a teenage girl, both matching Lance’s complexion and hair color, sit at a messy and worn down table, discussing something in Spanish that, if Keith caught the few phrases he knows correctly, has something to do with horses. An older woman is babbling loudly on the phone, ignoring the loud noises around her.

“Mamá?” Lance asks, and the woman juggling two kids and a hot pot looks up for a moment.

“Oh, Lance,” she says, relief evident in her tone, “Here, set that stuff down and take Rosa for me. No, Carlos, no means no! My answer is final!”

The boy at her feet sulks as Lance sets his lava lamp on the already crowded kitchen table and accepts the girl from his mother’s arms. He bounces her on his hip, surveying his family, before sighing.

Keith feels an emotion resonating from this ten-year-old Lance that he never expected: resignation. Keith figured Lance would’ve shouted, or dramatically made a show of presenting his project in order to get his parent’s attention. But no, Lance merely gave up and did what his mother asked him to do. Keith is surprised, and aches for young Lance a bit. He’s never had a family, that much is sure, but Keith knows what it feels like to be ignored and neglected. He never thought Lance would’ve ever come even close to that sort of thing.

Lance is just full of surprises, Keith supposes.

~

An all too brief snap of an eager and excited Lance, pouring over a Spanish French dictionary. He’s scribbling down important things in a nearby notepad, and occasionally he’ll say a word out loud, slow and careful. His pronunciation is quite good. On the desk beside him sit English, Japanese, and German dictionaries. Keith didn’t anticipate this kind of skill from Lance, but is impressed nonetheless.

~

When the next memory comes upon them, Keith is able to distinguish his own consciousness from Lance’s far faster.

This time, Lance is slightly older, maybe twelve, and he’s got three little kids tugging on his legs. They’re standing outside the house, and Lance has a blue duffel bag on his shoulder. A standard yellow school bus can be seen approaching from the end of the street.

“C’mon, Isabel, Carlos, Leo,” Lance complains, “I gotta go. Get off me. You’re all annoying little leeches, you know that?”

His tone comes off as serious at first, but the slight upwards tug of his lips and the all too endearing way he says the kids’ names makes it all too clear he doesn’t mean a word of it.

“Why do you get to go to camp and we don’t?” pouts the oldest of the leeches, who Keith believes is Carlos, “It’s so _boring_ here without you. Stay and play!”

The kids began to chant the last phrase, insistently tugging on Lance’s pants. _Stay and play! Stay and play_! Lance is laughing now, as he reaches down to gently unfasten their grips.

“Sorry, kiddos,” he says, “But I really do gotta go. You’ll get to go when you’re my age, ok?”

None of them seem even slightly content at this, and they’re all staring at Lance in a way that tugs on Keith’s heartstrings. Normally, he’s not a fan of kids, but this is really sweet, honestly.

The bus pulls up, and Lance carefully detaches himself from any remaining children, and walks over to the steps.

“Bye, mijito!” a voice calls from inside the house- presumably Lance’s mother. Lance calls back a farewell, and waves to the kids in the driveway before climbing into the big yellow vehicle. The driver, a gruff old man with a very large beard, hardly spares Lance a glance as the Cuban boy walks over to take an empty seat by the window. He continues waving to his siblings long after the bus has rumbled onwards, and Lance turns to face front with a sigh, clutching his bag to his stomach.

This time, the emotion Keith feels most strongly from Lance is loneliness. Other kids on the bus sit next to each other, talking and laughing and throwing things, but no one makes a move to include Lance. The sheer vastness of Lance’s loneliness seems, quite frankly, entirely disproportionate to the situation he’s in, and Keith’s confused. It isn’t until Lance pulls a book from his bag and begins to read, tuning out the world around him, that Keith understands.

This is not a first time occurrence. This is the same thing that happens every year, and probably more often. Lance has become entirely resigned to being brushed over as the middle child in his family. He’s having more trouble with being brushed over by the kids his own age.

Lance was lonely growing up, and he probably still is.

~

Lance sits next to an older girl who looks a lot like him. He’s a bit older than when he went to camp. He’s feeling content, as his sister applies sapphire nail polish to his delicate hands. They’re both wearing facemasks, and as Keith watches, Lance giggles at something his sister said in Spanish. It’s peaceful.

~

The next memory takes Keith (and probably the other paladins, although Keith isn’t really paying attention to them at all) to a place that is both entirely new and yet all too familiar to Keith.

High school.

It’s clear years have passed since the camp or whatever it was, but Keith can still feel that loneliness, that resignation, rippling through Lance. Just because it’s not front and center at the moment doesn’t mean it’s disappeared.

Right now, what _is_ front and center is anger. A lot of it. Keith almost reels from it, because it’s just so _not Lance_.

Their blue paladin has become lanky and tall, like he is now, but he hasn’t quite filled out as much as he has currently. He’s all awkward limbs and bony joints. He’s just barely taller than the person he’s staring down.

“I think you know exactly what I mean,” Lance hisses, in a tone of voice that Keith has certainly never heard before. There’s a fiery rage behind his eyes, a hurricane whipping up the normally calm waters. Keith hates to admit it, but angry Lance is almost… scary.

“Leave. Him alone. And get out. Of my face.” Every fragment is accentuated with a shove on the chest of the large kid Lance is staring down. They look fierce, and tough, but also a bit nervous. Keith supposes this must be a bully or something, and this bully wasn’t counting on someone like Lance standing up to them.

Finally, they seem to decide it’s in their best interest to stand down, and they do, with a snarl in Lance’s direction as they tug on their jacket and saunter away. Lance watches them go down the hallway.

The moment the bully is out of sight, Lance turns to the person behind him. The boy is large, and dark-skinned. It takes a moment for Keith to recognize Hunk, especially without his signature headband. Hunk has a bloody nose, and is looking at Lance warily, like he’s doubtful that Lance’s intentions in scaring the bully off were pure.

“The name’s Lance,” says the taller, grinning his signature smile at Hunk, and holding out a hand.

Hunk hesitates only a moment before taking it. “Taumamua.”

“Nice to meet you, Taumamua. I’m sorry I probably just butchered your name,” Lance says, although Keith didn’t hear any difference in the way the two pronounced it. Hunk apparently did, as he laughs slightly. Lance’s smile dies slightly as he jerks his head in the direction of the bully who left. “Can I ask what that was all about?”

Hunk shrugs slightly. “You can probably guess. I’m pretty fat and I’m foreign, so I’m an easy target, I guess.”

Lance looks genuinely angry at this relevation. “My mom is from America, so I’m foreign too. That’s no excuse. And you look incredibly handsome. They clearly don’t know what they’re talking about.”

Hunk gives Lance a half-smile, clearly disbelieving, and Keith feels an anger broiling in his gut for the clearly multiple people who’ve bulled Hunk in the past. He seems to be of a mind with the memory Lance, as he insists, “What, you don’t agree? Trust me, I have excellent taste in both men and women, and you are beautiful. Taumamua, you’re a damn fine hunk.”

Hunk laughs slightly. “A hunk?”

Lance nods eagerly. “That’s right. A hunk. You’re a hunk. In fact, I’m gonna call you that from now on, if it’s alright with you.”

Hunk grins. “Yeah. I like that. Thanks, Lance.”

Keith already knows they’re great friends, but even if he didn’t, he would be able to tell from the way they’re looking at each other now. They both have a little bit of wonder in their eyes, like they can’t believe they just found someone who seems to get along with them for even this long. Keith gets the impression that Hunk didn’t have many friends growing up, either.

Lance’s loneliness seems to recede ever the slightest bit as the two clasp hands, smiles lighting up their faces.

~

Hunk and Lance sit on a leather couch in a small house. Hunk’s hair is longer, and he’s holding golden string and a pair of plastic yellow knitting needles. Two women chat in the kitchen visible to their left through a doorway. Keith remembers Hunk mentioning his two moms.

Lance is holding a ball of the same string, and a pair of wooden needles. He’s carefully demonstrating how loop the string over and make a simple row. Hunk appears to be a fast learner, and Lance grins with pride.

~

They’re back at the McClain household now, and Keith feels a deep pain in his chest at the sight that awaits him.  

This must be Lance’s room. The walls are painted a deep navy blue, and glow-in-the-dark stars are plastered among posters detailing constellations and information about other celestial bodies. One wall is slanted slightly, and a telescope sits in front of the only small round window in the room. It’s an attic room, apparently, and what with the twin sized bed, the dresser, and the desk, not to mention the books and trinkets decorating each of these, it’s packed full.

The blue boy himself sits on his bed, cross-legged, sobbing into his pillow. The tears are running down his cheeks, but he’s obviously doing his best to muffle it. These tears are raw and emotional, and obviously the last thing Lance wants is an audience. Keith feels like he’s violating Lance’s privacy by witnessing this memory, but there’s nothing he can do to stop it.

Against his better judgement, Keith spies a letter on the bed next to Lance’s knee, with a familiar Garrison seal on the top. He manages to read the first line.

_Dear Mr McClain,_

_We are sorry to inform you that we are unable to offer you a place in our class…_

Oh.

Oh.

This… makes a lot of sense. This explains a lot of things. This is why Lance was so bitter about Keith dropping out. This is why Lance was so angry at Keith poking fun at the ‘cargo pilot’.

Keith wants to drop on his knees. All of these memories have been too much. He’s seeing things Lance never wanted them to see, leaning things Lance never wanted them to know. Lance clearly dreamed of going to the Garrison. Judging by the room’s décor, it was his passion for a long time. And then for him to be rejected like this…

Well, it’s no wonder he’s sobbing on the bed now.

Keith isn’t much for physical contact, but he wishes he could hug Lance right now. He wishes he could do anything, except watch this scene

Lance finally quiets, wiping the tears from his cheeks and flipping his pillows to hide the wet stains. He smiles slightly, but it’s not a nice smile- it’s entirely tainted, by bitterness and resentment and some sort of grim, morbid amusement..

“Well,” he mumbles, “I guess my sister was right after all.”

His sister? It seems Hunk was not the only one with some negative influences in his life. That indignant fury is back, tightening Keith’s core and making him want to punch everyone who’s ever badmouthed Lance in his life- including Keith himself.

“I’m just not cut out to be a hero, huh Shirogane?” This comes in a tone so low Keith barely hears it, but he starts at the name. He follows Lance’s forlorn gaze.

There it is, right on the back of Lance’s door: one of Shiro’s posters from before he vanished into space and was branded as the reason the Kerboros mission failed. From when he was internationally regarded as a hero, the youngest pilot to graduate from the Garrison and go into space ever, at just 21years old on his first mission to the space station. Keith knew Lance had looked up to Shiro before, but it’s now clear that Shiro was everything Lance wanted to be.

Keith idly wonders how Shiro is reacting to this.

Lance shakes his head, radiating such pure self-loathing that it leaves Keith feeling utterly helpless.

~

Lance is listening to Hunk ramble about how he got accepted to an engineering program in the Garrison. It’s clear from the way that Hunk is talking about his hope of them being roommates that Lance hasn’t told him the news. Lance doesn’t seem sad or bitter anymore- just empty. Drained. He idly strokes the scrawny Siamese cat curled up on his lap. A collar around the cat’s neck reads _Jewel_. Keith feels an odd satisfaction in seeing it confirmed that Lance is a cat person. He just seems like the type.

~

The emotions that come in the next one are completely the opposite from the last.

Lance is surrounded by his family, and he’s grinning. For once, Lance seems to be the center of attention- his parents are focusing their love and praise on him, as he triumphantly holds a letter in one hand, and a suitcase in the other. This letter, too, has the seal of the Garrison, but it’s clear the contents of this one are far more favorable towards Lance.

_Dear Mr McClain,_

_We are pleased to inform you that you have been accepted into the Galaxy Garrison’s Cargo Pilot Training program…_

Keith feels a swell of happiness at catching the first line of this particular letter. From the way Lance’s family is celebrating, it’s obviously no small achievement to them, and Keith wagers that Lance didn’t tell them about the original rejection letter. Keith isn’t sure whether someone already in the class dropped out, or if Lance sent them another letter, or what, but regardless, it’s a happy time.

Keith doesn’t know how many siblings Lance has total, so he can’t tell if a certain bitchy sister is present or not. There’s not a person that looks out of place, or disdainful, although Keith definitely looks.

“I’ll write often,” Lance is saying, as Carlos, Rosa, and Leo cling to his legs in a way reminiscent of the summer camp memory, “I can video you guys sometimes, too, although we’ll have to coordinate with the time difference. Hunk is going to be my roommate, we already found that out.”

“Lance,” his mother says, slightly tearful, “You know that we are extremely proud of you, right?”

“Yeah, mom,” Lance says, but his voice is breaking too, “I know. I love you.”

Keith can’t help but wonder if that’s the last time Lance sees them in person.

~

Lance, Pidge, and Hunk are laughing about something. It’s made pretty clear what as they all duck down beneath the desk they’re sitting at when Iverson storms into the otherwise empty classroom. His hair is green. Keith shakes his head in amusement. He remembers that prank. The perpetrators were never caught, and Keith and no idea it was this trio, but it makes sense.

Lance glances towards Pidge, and Keith gets a sense of relief from him. Keith remembers how closed off Pidge was at first (not that he’s one to talk) and he assumes that this is just when Pidge is beginning to warm towards her teammates. It’s nice.

~

The first thing Keith sees in the next memory is himself.

It’s weird. Keith has never seen himself outside of a mirror or photo, and it’s different. He thought he’d look taller.

Lance is glaring at him, and memory Keith is glaring right back.

“It’s not all about you, y’know,” Lance says, his scowl conveyed in his voice, “Honestly. You always have to run off and play the hero.”

“Don’t take it out on me just because I was useful and you weren’t, like always!” memory Keith snaps back.

Oh, Keith remembers this. Keith had flown off to take on a Galra battalion flying a little too close to the pods they were protecting, leaving Lance to fend for himself. He’d felt a bit bad afterwards, when Blue had taken some damage to her hull, but Lance had gotten up in his face about it, so Keith had defended himself. He remembered this argument, and he’d thought it was just another petty disagreement that didn’t matter much.

What Keith doesn’t remember is the hurt that resounds in Lance as Keith’s barbed words strike home. He doesn’t remember the way Lance’s voice cracks ever so slightly in his reply. He doesn’t remember even noticing that he went a bit too far. Maybe because Lance is trying to hide it as he says, “I took out plenty of Galra. You pulled some dumb stunt just to show off!”

Yeah, that’s pretty fair. What’re not fair are Shiro’s next words.

“Lance, take a step back,” Shiro orders tiredly, “Both of you need to calm down. Lance, Keith was just trying to protect the pods. Lay off a bit.”

“Me?” Lance gasps indignantly.

“Yes, you,” Allura snaps, annoyed, “We’re all very tired right now, and we don’t need you starting fights, Lance.”

“Alright, settle down,” Coran steps in, “Let’s all go get some rest now, yeah? Lance, I’ll help you with Blue’s repairs later, how does that sound?”

“Fine,” Lance grumbles, and to the outside observer, he just looks a little offended.

But to Lance, and now Keith, privy to all of Lance’s emotions, he feels more alone than ever. Even on this thing, where Lance was sure he was in the right, Lance is shot down. He might have been ignored at home, but here? He’s not only ignored, he’s treated as useless and annoying. He doesn’t belong here, that much is clear.

Keith wants to scream at him, tell him that it’s not true, he’s very much needed, and everyone knows it. If only Lance could see the sheer worry on everyone’s faces when Shiro had first found him collapsed. He’s incredibly loved and appreciated, and now Keith just wishes he could tell that much to Lance.

Shit. Shit, shit, shit. Keith remembers every dumb comment he’s ever directed towards Lance, every time he’s smugly grinned as Shiro maybe didn’t look at the whole situation and instead assumed Lance was the problem, every training session he’s beat Lance to a pulp, confident under the assumption that it was as fun of a game and challenge to Lance as it was to Keith. Oh, Keith fucked up royally, and so did the rest of the team. He’s sure they know it by now too.

This memory ends with Lance leaving the control room with a huff, putting on his offended exterior until he’s alone in the hallways. There, he just looks defeated. _Alone. Useless. A seventh wheel. Not needed._

None of what they did to Lance was meant in harm. But now that Keith sees the full picture, he sees exactly how much harm they unwittingly caused to the already damaged blue paladin.

~

In the next memory, it’s a simple dark blue expanse of nothingness. Keith doesn’t know what to make of it. This doesn’t seem like any place on Earth, nor room in the castle, nor planet they’ve visited.

Then, it’s made clear exactly what this is when Keith brushes against Lance’s consciousness. His brief relief is immediately tempered by the intense fear and agony Lance’s mind is practically radiating.  

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> consistent update schedule ? ,, never heard of her.
> 
> Wow. So, turns out I'm an incredibly insecure and anxious person, and I cannot decide whether I like this chapter or not. On the one hand, it was an interesting challenge to write Keith's perspective, experiencing Lance's perspective. On the other hand, I probably did it badly.  
> Thank you so much to every single person who commented or left kudos! I'm so amazed at the amount of positive response this utter shit has gotten thus far!! Thank you! I love you all!!  
> (Especially you guys, Katie and Claire- y'all my squad, and your encouragement was appreciated.)  
> Please, give me feedback, and if you're curious about any of the headcanons I use in this work, or any of the way too intricate world building stuff I've got in my head that I'll probably never use, hit me up on tumblr- http://spaceisgaygayisspace.tumblr.com/  
> Thanks!


	4. The Prodigal Daughter

Pidge’s mother uttered the phrase, “You kids will be the death of me,” under her breath so often that Pidge is pretty sure if this were a story, or a TV show, that would be her catchphrase. 

It wasn’t, of course, without good reason. Pidge and Matt were a couple of little shits, and they both knew it. When they weren’t involved in a catastrophic prank war that almost burned the house down on multiple occasions, they were wreaking havoc on neighbors and friends. Not to brag or anything, but Pidge is a genius. She skipped several grades, and can hack anything she sets her mind to. (She tried to get into the Pentagon once, but her dad stopped her halfway. She still thinks she could’ve done it.)

Now, Pidge isn’t without a conscience. She knows she ought to use her brain capacity for good, but c’mon- pranks are fun! And Matt may not have been a prodigy like she was, but he was still pretty damn smart ( _is_ pretty smart. Pidge has to remind herself to stay optimistic). So they managed to compromise with her parents- get good grades, stay ahead of the class, keep themselves out of legal trouble, and they could pull all of the harmless pranks they wanted.

With that wonderful deal, the Holt siblings had a field day. Some of the pranks they pulled might’ve toed the line, but so long as they weren’t caught, it was all in good fun. Despite being like, not even five feet tall, Pidge became the terror of the neighborhood and school. She was never mean or threatening, but it was a well-known fact that if you got on the little genius girl’s bad side, you were gonna pay in some way later. Despite this, she was still likable, and had plenty of friends.

Now, Pidge is in space. She’s been through some shit, and she’s only fourteen. Her annoying, stupid, wonderful brother is missing. She’s fighting for her life against a bunch of giant purple space cats. But she’s still Katie Holt, genius student hacker and phenomenal prank artist. She may be helping to save the universe, but that doesn’t mean she can’t mess with her beloved teammates.

Obviously, whenever someone finds themselves a victim of a prank, they know it’s Pidge’s doing. There’s no ‘innocent until proven guilty’ in space. She’s been chewed out by Shiro a fair number of times. Not that that stops her. Because being in space has opened up a whole plethora of new tricks. Oops, entire room just went into antigravity. Hm, the showers have mysteriously started ejecting food goo instead of water. Strange, your entire room has been papered from head to toe in ridiculous Zarkon merchandise.

To Pidge’s surprise, she has a skilled accomplice as well. Lance McClain, raised in a giant ass family, admits that he never played many pranks as a kid, but he was sure as fuck exposed to them. It wasn’t until he met Pidge that he began to use his knowledge to create controlled chaos in his environment- and Pidge is so goddamned proud. She even forgives the couple of times he’s dared to prank her. When they team up, it’s like Pidge has her brother back with her.

Lance actually reminds her of her brother in more ways than that. He’s got the same kind of dorky exterior that makes it all the more surprising when you discover the brilliant mind underneath. Yes, Pidge is well aware that Lance is smarter than he leads people to believe. Doesn’t make him any less annoying, but his ideas and input are usually quite good. Pidge is kind of ashamed of how she’s gotten into the habit of dismissing him as much as Shiro and Allura do. She just forgets, you know? He makes it easy to forget. Matt does the same thing.

Pidge remembers a time a few years ago, when Matt was in the garrison and she was wishing she could go as well. They were video chatting, and Matt was goofing off as she tried to tell him about a project she was working on. She was being incredibly condescending in response to his dumb quips- more than was funny. And Matt finally snapped, reminding her that just because he had a sense of humor didn’t make him unintelligent. Meekly, Pidge had apologized.

Lance, however, is not nearly as blunt as Matt. Pidge knows this. He puts on an overconfident façade, but he’s quite slow to anger. Pidge treats him like an idiot sometimes, which is unfair, and he just takes it. Pidge regrets this.

And now, all she wants is a chance to apologize. A chance to tell him she’s not as oblivious to his skills as she lets on. That she knows he’s as smart and kind and brilliant as the rest of them are- probably more so. After all of those memories… well, it’s clear his façade is a lot faker than she thought it was.

Those memories. Fucking Christ, Pidge feels like the world’s biggest ass. Ok, so maybe she didn’t play a role front and center in any of them, but still. She never imagined… She never even conceived the idea that Lance was that fucked up. She’d always assumed that Lance got a lot of attention, in such a big family. Her parents and brother always showered her with it, much to her annoyance. She figured that with more siblings, Lance would get more time as well.

Boy. If that’s not the fucking definition of a faulty assumption.

Pidge has had experience with depression in the past. She’s always hated therapy (“How the fuck do you think I’m gonna talk out chemical imbalances in my brain?!” she’d snapped at one particularly annoying therapist her parents had tried to send her to) and meds made her feel unnatural. Her depression was hardly extreme, though, so with her supportive family, and now with her supportive friends, she’s never had a lot of trouble coping with it. She just reasons away the highly illogical and invasive thoughts.

But Lance is an emotional person, that much is clear. He was neglected as a kid, and didn’t have a lot of friends, apparently, so when he developed depression and anxiety, he didn’t really have a coping method. It appears Hunk helped, but. Well. A one-person support system can only go so far.

And Pidge is kicking herself for not realizing the issue sooner.

If she’d just paid some more goddamn attention, she might’ve realized that Lance needed help. If she’d just stopped being so fucking self-absorbed all the time, she might’ve noticed that Lance wasn’t ok with the teasing jabs and petty insults they sent his way constantly. If she’d just pulled her head from her laptop to say a simple, “Thank you” when Lance sent her to bed, or an “I appreciate it,” when Lance brought her food, she might’ve been able to help when he wasn’t doing well. She might’ve managed to build him up a little instead of just tearing him down all. The fucking. Time.

Some friend she was. Christ.

She remembers a time, before they’d been launched into space on a giant robot cat (like a bad anime, Pidge remembers thinking), when she, Hunk, and Lance had all been in the Garrison together. It was maybe a month or so after they’d become a team, and she was just beginning to come out of her shell.

At first, she hadn’t wanted to make friends or become attached. She just wanted to find her brother. ‘Friends’ didn’t factor into her mission. But Lance… well, he has a way of wearing people down. (He’s surprisingly insecure for someone so likable. Honestly, the most surprising part of the memories was the fact that Lance was mostly friendless growing up. Maybe he changed himself when he went to the Garrison. Maybe he just lived in negative places. Whatever the case, Pidge is certain that in all the time she’s known him, he’s carried himself with a natural friendliness and charisma that draws people in and makes them want to stay. It was hard for her to associate the memory Lance with the one they have now, for that reason.)

On this particular occasion, they were enjoying a very rare day off. Typically, even on weekends, Iverson had them running drills left and right. But not this day. Nope, they were home free. Pidge had figured she would just mess around with the stuff she was building. She hadn’t told anyone about her project, nor did she intend to. However, before she could slip off to the little closet where she was hiding it all, Lance was pulling her along on some ridiculous trip to the little town ten or so miles from the Garrison base. He’d stolen a hoverbike (How, Pidge still doesn’t know) and had somehow managed to convince Hunk to climb on it. When they arrived in the town, Hunk had thrown up, and then they were on their way.

Lance somehow managed to sweet talk their way into a karaoke bar. Yeah. An actual fucking bar, that serves like, alcohol and shit. Pidge doesn’t know. But she wasn’t complaining. At just fourteen years old, with the help of a relaxed bartender and a passable fake ID belonging to the other two, Pidge managed to get pretty buzzed. And fuck Lance and his magic persuasion skills, but he got her to sing, too. Oh, damn, did she sing. Pidge isn’t a bad singer, so long as the song stays in a certain range. That night, however, she probably busted the eardrums of every person there. And she has no regrets. (She also found out that Lance and Hunk both sing, and beautifully. Lance can perfectly impersonate just about any artist, for any song, if you give him some time to practice. Hunk’s voice is deep and full of emotion. Both could’ve had a future in music if they so chose, honestly.)

To this day, it’s one of the best memories Pidge has. Sure, she had friends before, but not friends like these. Not real, solid friends who would always have your back. She was amazed, even then, at how they both immediately accepted her as one of their own. Lance just didn’t give up. She was their communications officer, and that meant she was going to be their friend. Lance didn’t take no for an answer. He was so annoyingly persistent, and Pidge is so, so grateful for it. Even if it took him almost a year to realize her fucking gender.

Looking back, Lance was a fantastic friend. He still is. All Pidge wants is a chance to make things right. To show him that despite her barbed words and sarcastic insults, she really cares about him.

But, if the mess that is his current nightmare is anything to go by, Pidge may never get that chance.

The space surrounding them is empty, yet it has form. It’s like a plain, dark scape that just goes on forever. There’s no floor, yet there’s something flat that Pidge is standing on. There’s no ceiling, yet there’s harsh, dim light coming from somewhere above them. There’s no space, or time, or anything in this practical void, yet Pidge can tell some time has passed and the other paladins are nearby. Being in a purely mental… whatever the fuck you would call it, is horrible. Pidge hates that she can’t really define her surroundings. Pidge hates that she’s not even sure she can classify them as ‘surroundings’. That’s not a vague enough word, honestly.

At least there’s visual proof that the others are nearby. Pidge can see their consciousnesses, as general colored shapes. She’s still the shortest. Dammit. She also notices that their colors correspond to their paladin colors. She idly wonders if that has something to do with their quintessence. She’ll have to ask Coran about that later. It might make an interesting experiment.

Ok, focus, Pidge. Not the time. Shit.

Lance, standing slightly apart from the rest is the only one who looks like an actual person. Pidge supposes that makes sense- it’s his mind, after all. He looks like himself, even wearing his typical jacket and jeans. He’s surrounded by an ocean blue aura, though, and his eyes are glowing as well. There’s something else about him, something… strange. Unsettling. Distinctly _not Lance_. As hard as she looks at him, however, Pidge can’t tell what it is that’s giving off that impression.

Even more alarming is his current state of mind. One gentle nudge in his direction sends back a flurry of tormented thoughts. Lance is in a lot of pain right now, that much is clear. But try as she might, Pidge can’t identify the source. He appears to just be standing there, on whatever strange surface this is. He’s not moving, not blinking, just standing, and staring. His expression isn’t contorted or anything. He’s not writhing around, like he was in the waking world. It doesn’t make sense. And Pidge _hates_ it when things don’t make sense. Fucking druids and their fucking magic bullshit. Everything would be so much easier if everyone just stuck to science, but _no_.

_What’s causing this pain?!_

Pidge starts at the voice in her mind. It’s Hunk, although she’s not sure how she knows. She just does. Before, they weren’t able to communicate, but now, it appears they can exchange thoughts with ease.

_I don’t know_ , she replies, _but we owe it to Lance to find out_.

_Damn right we do_ , growls Keith, and his aura appears to grow more intense, _Fuck, those memories_ …

_We’ll fix it_ , Shiro says firmly, the guilt evident in his thoughts. _We’ll make it right. I swear_.

“Fix it?”

What. What the fuck. All of them turn towards Lance. It’s obviously his voice, and he’s now glaring at them. He’s responding to what they said (well, thought) and actually voicing it. Towards them.

“Fix… what, exactly? Fix my memories? Fix my past? Fix me? Sorry, Shiro, I admit, I’m a bit confused. But then, that’s nothing new, hm?” He cocks his head, staring at Shiro.

_Lance, you can… hear us?_ Hunk asks hesitantly. His warm golden glow is fading slightly. So Pidge isn’t the only one who senses it. Something’s not right.

“Hm. Yes. I suppose I can,” Lance replies. Those eyes are really unnerving. “Really, though, I’m the one who should be surprised. This is my mind, after all. You’re the ones out of place here.”

How? Pidge doesn’t understand. Allura said that Lance wouldn’t know they were there. Allura said they couldn’t even interact.

“Oh, _Allura said_ , hm?” Lance hums, and his voice sounds way more sadistic than it should. Pidge is scared. She’s never heard him sound like this. Something is very wrong. 

“Allura says. Right. Because Allura’s always right, right? Allura’s never been wrong, ever.” He’s pacing back and forth. Fuck ‘scared’, Pidge is downright terrified. This isn’t Lance. This isn’t their blue paladin.

 “Allura says this, Allura says that,” Lance draws out, in this sickly singsong voice, “I don’t know about you all, but I am so fucking _sick_ of listening to _Princess Allura_.”

_Lance, what’s going on? What is this?_ Shiro tries to ask, but Lance speaks over his thoughts.

“As a matter of fact, I’m a bit sick of all of you.” This is Lance talking, but it’s not. It’s his voice, but none of these words are his. He continues, apparently oblivious to the horrified reactions of the paladins. “Is that rude? Sorry. Where are my manners? Then again, I was taught to never lie either, and, well. I must admit. You’re all pretty sorry excuses for ‘friends’. You saw those memories, right? My memories?”

If Pidge was in her normal body, she would probably be in tears right now. What the fuck is going on? This isn’t Lance. They’re supposed to be helping him, finding out how to wake him up.

“First, you fuck me up to the point where I feel like I’m drowning. Every day.” Lance starts out talking casually, as if what he’s saying isn’t terrible. It’s building, though, steadily getting worse. “Insults. Remarks. Talking about me like I’m some mistake, someone who only ended up in the blue lion by coincidence. I’m the one who wasn’t meant to be here, isn’t that right? I’m the sorry excuse for a paladin. The placeholder, until you can find someone to properly do the job, right?”

He snorts. “I guess you all needed somewhere to vent your frustrations, huh. Nevermind that I’m already breaking down. Lance makes jokes, so that must mean it’s ok to make fun of him. You know, when you put it that way, _it still doesn’t fucking make it ok.”_

“What,” Lance, or this horrible, glowing, menacing impression of Lance, spits out, “You figured, ‘Hey, this kid is slightly obnoxious, and we’re stressed out. Let’s rip him apart!’ Did any of you stop to think? Did any of you even try to care? Do any of you even know what my favorite food is? I don’t think so, because none of you ever asked. You act so shocked at these memories that you _invaded my personal thoughts to see_ , like I wouldn’t have been honest if you’d just bothered to _ask_.”

These words aren’t quite true. They all care, they care about him so much, and none of what they did was intentional. But they still did it. They fucked up. Pidge fucked up. Big time. And she regrets it so much, because this thing that looks like Lance but isn’t, is what Lance would be if he was any less of the wonderful person he is. Every single word that comes out of this pseudo-Lance’s mouth makes every part of Pidge physically hurt, because this isn’t the boy who bothered her until she accepted him. This isn’t the boy who helped her sneak into the officers’ chambers and switch Iverson’s shampoo with hair dye. This isn’t the boy who dragged her along and got her halfway drunk at a karaoke bar. And the pain, the truth radiating off of him, it hurts. Because this isn’t that boy. But a part of Pidge can’t deny that maybe it should be. Maybe Lance deserves to say these things.

“I thought we were supposed to be a team!” Lance continues, spite and malice lacing every word, “I thought we were supposed to work together. But all any of you have ever done is tear me down. Pathetic. All of you are pathetic. Shiro, with your fucking PTSD. Boo fucking hoo. You’re so selfish, caught up on yourself that you don’t even notice the issues with your own team. Some goddamn leader.”

Stop, just stop. Pidge wants Lance to stop. It’s not true, yet it is. She can feel Shiro’s mind, breaking down. He believes what Lance is saying. He can’t handle it. None of them are handling it. Pidge can’t take it. She has to do something.

“Keith, the edgy fucking loner,” Lance continues, “pretending you can do everything yourself. Fuck everyone else- Keith Kogane works alone. You act all tough and unbreakable, but what can you really do? You’re weak. That’s why everyone keeps leaving you, Kogane. Because you’re fucking weak.”

Their team is breaking down under Lance’s words. But Pidge runs on logic. She doesn’t let emotions interfere with her plans. Even as the others are crippled under Lance’s words hitting them at their weakest points, Pidge begins to move. She has to do something.

“Sweet, kind, lovable Hunk.” Lance’s voice has turned into a horrible simper, sickeningly sweet. “Aw, everyone cares about you so much. So selfless, so kind. Except when anything actually happens, at which point you turn into a useless coward. What good is empathy if you don’t have the fucking courage to act on it? To do something? What, you think you’re some kind of hero? I thought heroes were supposed to be brave, not break down every time you see a Galra.”

Moving in this world isn’t like in the real world. She’s slowed down so much, it’s like she’s wading through syrup. But Pidge persists. This isn’t Lance. She has to do something.

“Little Pidge,” Lance croons, and Pidge immediately attempts to tune him out. _This isn’t Lance. Keep going. Ignore him_. “Been told you’re a genius your whole life, haven’t you? Little girl, toughing it out, hiding in the Garrison, using your brains to fight whatever enemy is in your way. How come you haven’t saved your brother yet, hm? How come you haven’t saved me? Can you do anything right, Katie Holt? What have you even done to stop Zarkon? Considering where he is right now, nothing. If you’re the best we’ve got, the universe really is in trouble.”

Pidge cuts off those hateful, hurtful words by doing something.

She throws her arms around this pretend Lance. He stops talking, shocked. Physical contact isn’t like in the real world. But she can still feel him. She can feel the real him, too. The hidden one.

Pidge hadn’t even noticed the wind swirling around them, the emptiness growing darker, the pressure inside of their chests making them feel like they’re suffocating. She only notices those things now, as they disappear. Lance, or rather not Lance, stumbles, taken aback. He hadn’t accounted for this. And inside this darker, demented, vengeful Lance, Pidge finally brushes against the mind of the actual Lance.

He’s so broken. He’s shattered into pieces, hundreds of pieces, so far gone into his own personal hell that he’s unconsciously sent this cruel Lance out to face them instead. But he’s not completely vanished- not yet. Lance is broken, but he’s fixable. Pidge just needs to draw him out. She remembers what Allura said- that they couldn’t save Lance with the headbands. But it appears she didn’t know much about this druid magic, and Pidge is sure as all fuck gonna try.

She holds the faux Lance tighter, trying to coax the real Lance out. Around her, her teammates have gotten back up, and are apparently trying to help. They send thoughts towards Lance, ignoring the horrible impression of him that’s struggling.

_Please, Lance. Come back. We love you. We appreciate you. Don’t leave us. We care about you so, so much._

Pidge can’t tell if Lance can hear them. He has to, he has to hear them, it’s important. _C’mon, Lance. We need you_.

And then, just like that, it’s all fading back out.

~

When Pidge comes to, either the Alteans have decided on a new color theme, or they’re no longer in the castle.

_Shit._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Catch me camping out under the steps of your local high school, editing my work by reading the entire thing aloud, to myself, in my best impression of each character's voice. The things I do for fanfiction.
> 
> Wow. If my other chapters were a bit dialogue-heavy, this is opposite. Every character has like, what, two lines?? Um, sorry to everyone who said they wanted a Shiro reaction (all two of you oops), that might come later. We'll see.  
> So, I've been planning this one since the very beginning. I know I say I cry often, but I'm not kidding when I say I was actually in tears for part of this. I hope it was as emotional for you as it was for me. Bit intense, but uh, yeah. I'm honestly happy with how this one turned out, and I hope you are too (well, happy wasn't the emotion I was going for, but- you get the gist).  
> As always, your comments and kudos continue to inspire me to write faster and better. <3  
> Claire, you're the worst, could not have gotten this far without you. Love you.  
> Thanks!


	5. The Model Son

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The tags have been updated, please make sure you check those!!

Hunk is an engineer. And a scientist. And a brother. And a friend, and a son, and the yellow paladin, and a student, and a chef, and many many more. Hunk is a lot of things.

But, one of the things that Hunk tends to be is very prominent, and affects every single other thing that Hunk is. And that is that Hunk is a worrier.

That’s right. Who’d’ve guessed? Hunk worries, a lot, about a lot of things. Like whether Pidge is eating regularly. Whether Shiro is getting enough sleep. Whether Keith is too reckless in battle. Whether Allura is pushing herself too hard. Whether Coran has an outlet for his grief over his planet. Whether his family back on Earth is safe. Whether they’re going to get out of this war alive and make it home.

But most of all, Hunk worries about Lance. Lance, his best friend, the blue paladin, the most caring and affectionate person Hunk knows. Lance, who somehow pushes attention off of himself by drawing attention to himself. Lance, whose emotional state Hunk can gauge by how loud and obnoxious he’s being (Hint: the more he boasts about how great he is, the more worthless he’s feeling at the time). Lance is difficult, because he’s really, really self-sacrificing. He’s a smart guy, smarter than people give him credit for, but he has no regard for his own well-being. He doesn’t get the whole ‘you have to help yourself before you can help others’ thing. That’s where Hunk comes in.

Hunk tries to do for Lance what Lance does for everyone else, including Hunk himself. He tries to convince Lance to get sleep, and food, and sometimes even water when Lance forgets. He tries to remind the blue paladin of how loved he is. He tries to mother him the way Lance mothers the others, and for the most part, Hunk thought he’d been successful. He’d thought his friend was doing ok.

Then came the memories.

It was a startling realization for Hunk, finally seeing exactly how bad Lance’s mental situation had gotten. Probably less startling than it was for the others, since Hunk already knew about Lance’s insecurities, but still alarming. Hunk had thought Lance knew how much the team loved him. He’d thought all the times they teased him, Lance was well-aware it was in good fun. The paladins had never been cruel to Lance. Rather, Lance had taken what was supposed to be friendly banter, and used it to be cruel to himself.

Hunk is kicking himself for not noticing it sooner. He resolved almost immediately after the whole big confrontation that they would have to sit down and have a long, deep talk about emotions and masks and depression, with all of the paladins and Alteans present, and maybe some hot cocoa space substitute.

Unfortunately, as Hunk comes to immobilized on his knees bound with chains, he thinks that that heart-to-heart might have to wait.

Everything is purple. Why always purple, Hunk wonders? Why do the Galra have no sense of creativity, of architecture, of design? Why can’t they even try mixing in some other colors? Hunk personally thinks a soft yellow would look lovely with the purple, but noooo, the Galra are apparently so conceited that they have to color everything they own the same shade as their own skin.

His mama always used to tell him that life was far too short to hate anything, and Hunk does his best to abide by that as much as possible (especially because of the constant overhanging threat that any of their lives could be cut even shorter with this war), but. _Man_. Hunk really freaking hates purple.

He pulls his attention from the frankly appalling color scheme, and notices something else even more disturbing. If he cranes his neck, he can just barely make out a figure bound in much the same way, to the left and behind him. The figure is small, and green, and makes Hunk groan internally.

Damn. Of course, hoping that he was the only one captured had been a naïve thought. If he was captured, that meant most likely everyone else would be too. Hunk’s not really insecure about his place on the team- despite the bullies, his mothers and younger sister hammered a sort of self-love into him- but he doesn’t kid himself, either. He’s well-aware that he’s the last one the Galra would target. Nah, they’d go after Shiro, cuz he’s the leader. Pidge, cuz she’s a genius hacker. Keith, cuz he’s their best fighter and pilot. Lance, cuz he practically holds the team together. Hunk knows he’s strong, he’s an excellent chef, he’s a decent enough pilot, he’s a good listener, and he easily gives the best hugs. He’s not disillusioned with his own talents. He just knows his skills are not ones that particularly single him out. (He really, honestly, truly doesn’t mind not being targeted by murderous purple space cats.)

But it means that if he’s captured, and Pidge is captured, then they probably have the rest of the team. They wouldn’t grab the two of them and leave the rest if pressed for time- they’d probably make off with Lance and Shiro.

So, uh, there’s that hope squashed.

Pidge appears to be unconscious, her head drooping. She’s donned in her armor, although she’s missing her helmet, and her normally at least semi-brushed hair looks as if Kaltenecker and the mice teamed up to style it together. Hunk is only slightly soothed by the visible rise and fall of her chest.

“Pidge,” he hisses, trying to scoot his body slightly so as to see her easier, with little success. “Piiiiidge!”

She sighs, shaking her head slightly, and Hunk grins victoriously. Her head shoots up abruptly, and her amber eyes blink owlishly behind her glasses, taking in her surroundings (really, it was very kind of the Galra to leave her with her glasses. Although, now that Hunk thinks about it, that’s really weird. The Galra aren’t typically described with the words, ‘very kind’…).

“Hunk?” she questions after a moment, frowning in his direction.

“Yup,” he replies, popping the ‘p’.

“We were… just in Lance’s head.”

“Yup.”

“We woke him up.”

“Yup.”

“And now we’re somehow captured in a Galra prison.”

“Yup.”

“Shit,” she says thoughtfully, and Hunk is inclined to agree. Pidge rattles her chains experimentally. “These are pretty solid.”

“Yeah,” Hunk nods, tugging on his own slightly, “I’m not sure what the game plan is here, Pidge.”

She goes silent for a moment, considering, and then says, “My chains have a bit of leeway. Can you scooch towards me at all? I might be able to reach you if I can turn enough…”

He obliges, attempting to maneuver in her direction. But the chains, regardless of whether they have a bit of leeway or not, are not that agreeable, and Hunk doesn’t get far. They spend a solid twenty minutes trying before Pidge decides it’s a bust.

“Ok,” Hunk agrees easily, “Next idea?”

The two run through a plethora of ideas over a decent amount of time. Hunk wishes he had a watch, to keep track of the time, but it probably doesn’t matter. Each maneuver becomes increasingly farfetched, with Pidge instructing a variety of weird angles and attempts to break or twist themselves free of the chains. None, of course, come even close to being successful, and finally, Pidge sighs.

“Shit,” she says, “I hate giving up, but I don’t fucking know, ok?”

Hunk feels a rush of sympathy for the girl, and sighs. “It’s ok. The Galra are clever bastards.”

“That’s true,” she sighs, “Fuck, I just feel so useless. Those memories, man. If I’d just paid a little more attention…”

Hunk shakes his head firmly. “No. It’s not just on you. It’s on all of us. All of us should’ve noticed, and Lance should’ve been honest, too. All of us are to blame, not you individually.”

Pidge smiles gratefully at his, before frowning again.

“Damn these things,” she mutters, tugging on her chains regretfully. Hunk mimics her, and comes to a startling realization.

“My chains are loosened!” he says excitedly, tugging on them again. It’s not by a whole lot, but if he’s right, maybe it’s enough.

“Loosened?” Pidge repeats, a glimmer of excitement in her eye. Hunk nods, and breathes deeply, hoping that this maneuver he learned in grade school will pay off. He closes his eyes, and then…

Bam. Who’s fab? It’s Hunk, who just used the slight momentum gained from pressing his wrists as high and close as his bonds would allow, and then thrusting down and out to snap his chains. Yeah. He just snapped his freakin’ chains. Oh, how Lance would be cheering if he were here…

Instead, it’s Pidge who lets out a whoop, and when Hunk turns to look at her, grinning in exhilaration and rubbing his somewhat sore wrists, she’s grinning right back with more elation and excitement than he’s seen on her face since that one time Lance got Keith to purr and Pidge caught a video of it. 

“You go, Hunk!” she says, and makes a motion as if to pump her fist in the air, before her arm is rudely stopped by her own chains.

“I gotcha, buddy,” Hunk says quickly, and hurries over to unchain her. With free hands, it’s relatively easy. Just a simple knot to run the chains through a few times. Hunk is a bit confused by it. He would’ve thought the Galra would’ve had higher quality restraints, not that he’s complaining.

Pidge stands, massaging her wrists and mumbling a thanks to Hunk. She seems to consider something for a moment, and then throws her arms around him. Surprised, but pleased, he hugs her back. When she releases him, her face is red, and she turns away quickly. Aw, bless her. She’s so cute.

 She hurries over to the sliding purple doors, and Hunk follows. He’s more of a machine-guy than a tech-guy, but who knows, maybe he’ll be of help.

Pidge peers at the screen on the wall next to the door, and begins tapping away, pressing symbols Hunk can’t read and swiping at sigils that Hunk doesn’t recognize. So, scratch that, Hunk’s not gonna do anything. He doesn’t understand a single thing that Pidge is doing right now. Instead, he stands and waits, and wishes he had his bayard. He feels kinda vulnerable without it, or some other weapon to substitute for the time being.

Finally, after what feels like hours but what was actually probably like five minutes, Pidge lets out a triumphant whoop and steps back. The two wait for a moment, and then the door slides open with a hiss.

“Nice!” Hunk says, ruffling Pidge’s already incredibly messy hair, and she swats at his arm playfully.

The moment doesn’t last, however, as the smell outside of the room is the equivalent of, to put it lightly, a thousand dead skunks marinated in rotten eggs and now fermenting in giant piles of cow shit. Pidge lets out an unearthly shriek when it hits her, ducking back and pressing her hands over her nose, and Hunk pinches his nose, trying to ward off the impending barfing he can feel coming.

“Damn Fucking Christ,” Pidge finally says, once she’s gotten a hold of herself, “What in the bloody shitting fucking hell bitch _is_ that?”

Hunk’s disgust at the horrid scent penetrating his nostrils is tempered only slightly by the amusement it brings him to imagine what Shiro’s reaction to Pidge’s increasingly vulgar language would be.

“I dunno,” he says, his voice coming out slightly wheezy, “But I vote we go _away_ from it.”

The hallway outside of the room goes in two directions, and the disgusting smell is very clearly drifting from the left one. Pidge nods eagerly, and the two set off right immediately, enthusiastic to be distanced from that horrible reek as soon as possible. To their infinite relief, it starts to fade.

As they jog along the passageway, the horrid smell thankfully almost completely gone, Hunk notices Pidge checking their surroundings often, and anxiously.

“Everything ok?” he asks, as they round a random corner, neither of them having any idea where they’re going.

“I mean,” she says, shrugging, “I dunno. This Galra ship is a fucking labyrinth, apparently, and also…”

She glances sideways at Hunk, as if debating whether or not to tell him, and that only increases Hunk’s curiosity tenfold.

“What?” he practically begs.

“It’s just..,” she hesitates, then presses onward in a rush, “Isn’t it a little strange that there are no guards? No drones, no galra, no druids, no nothing? I thought for sure we would’ve encountered something by now.”

“I suppose,” Hunk concedes, mulling it over, “But I don’t really wanna question our good luck.”

“Is it good luck though?” Pidge questions, “Or did we escape a little too easily? Like, I know it took us forever, but the fact that you were able to just snap the fucking chains like that? Sorry, this entire situation is just screaming ‘trap’ to me.”

Now that Hunk thinks about it, he realizes she’s for sure got a point. Something isn’t quite right here, besides the fact that they’re on a Galra ship.

“I was wondering the same thing,” a familiar voice says behind them, and the yellow and green paladins jump about a foot in the air.

Hunk spins, tensing, but immediately relaxes upon spotting red and black.

“Keith!” he cries, “Shiro!”

He pulls both into a bone-crushing hug, which, to Hunk’s delight, they both hesitantly return. After a moment, he releases them, and steps back. Pidge grins at them. 

"So you got out, too, huh?" she asks, raising an eyebrow. 

"Yeah," Keith answers, smiling at Shiro, "He broke the chains with his metal arm. It was cool."

"Hunk did the same," Pidge announces proudly, patting the bigger boy on the shoulder. Hunk blushes, looking at his feet. 

"It wasn't that hard," he says, "In fact, for all the stuff we tried before that, it was kinda weirdly easy.”

"I felt the same," Shiro agrees, frowning, "I suppose Lance isn't with you, hm? That's worrying."

"No kidding," Pidge says, scowling in a Keith-esque manner. "This whole thing is giving me the heebie-jeebies. I don't like it."

"Me neither," Hunk is quick to agree, "Do you guys have any idea where you're going? We've just been wandering around, trying to find a place that looks like it might be another prison cell or maybe an exit or an escape pod or something, but nada."

"We've pretty much been doing the same," says Keith, also scowling in a Keith-esque manner. 

"What I want to know is how we got here in the first place," Shiro wonders, as he starts to walk. Unsure whether he's just wandering or if he has a semblance of where he's going, Hunk and the other two follow. "We were in the castle. What with the wormholes, the particle barrier being up, the lions on defense mode, there's no way they should've been able to take us."

"You don't think they did something to Allura and Coran?" asks Hunk worriedly, wringing his hands together.

"Nah, they're pretty strong," Keith replies, "I doubt the Galra nabbed them."

Hunk really, really hopes he's right.

They wander for some time, making idle observations and still encountering a disturbing lack of Galra sentries. Hunk is feeling those heebie-jeebies Pidge mentioned. Really, by this point, they should be fighting for their lives. Hunk wonders idly if the ship is abandoned, but quickly dismisses that possibility. Why would the Galra bring them to an abandoned ship?

It's around this time, when Hunk is contemplating their situation, that they hear it. 

"Is that..," Pidge asks quietly, looking around at the group for confirmation. 

"It sounds like..," Keith begins, in a tone suggesting he's both unsure and slightly afraid to finish. 

"Cheering," Shiro confirms, and they don't have to confer or think or anything- they all take off running in the direction of the sound. 

Hunk is in the lead, the fear for Lance pumping through his veins giving him some extra adrenaline. There's only one thing that might explain a missing paladin, a lack of guards, and a cheering noise. 

Hunk's worst fear is confirmed when they encounter the first unlocked door they've seen since beginning their trek throughout the ship and, upon pushing through it, he sees two purple figures bearing down on a smaller blue one. 

"Lance!" he cries, surging forward, and he's not the only one. The other three paladins are right behind him, and thus all four of them run into the invisible barrier together. 

It hurts, Hunk isn't gonna lie, but he presses his face against the barrier anyways, ignoring his hurting nose. The Galra surround them, but rather than attacking or moving in on the paladins, they seem to be laughing and jeering. It's evident why. 

Contained in the invisible barrier, Lance faces two large Galra soldiers, one male and one female. Both are huge, drastically towering over the blue paladin, grasping huge purple swords, and Lance doesn't even have his own weapon. Instead, he's clutching a Galra blaster. He looks significantly the worse for wear, unsteady and limping, and there's a large crack down the chest piece of his armor. Hunk is only slightly comforted by the fact that there's no visible blood on him. 

"Lance!" Hunk calls again, and then immediately winces as Lance turns his attention to the yellow paladin with wide eyes. Mistake. The hulking Galra soldiers take advantage of his distraction, and strike forward. 

Lance swings back to face them, just barely managing to duck under their blades before bringing his blaster around and catching the male in the chest. It falls back, and for a moment, Hunk is hopeful. But even as the male collapses, bleeding dark violet, the female lets out a roar of anger, and charges forward. Lance manages to avoid her first few swings, and eventually, he shoots her down as well. But not before she gets several blows in.

By the time both Galra are dead, Lance has red staining his armor in several places, intermingling with splashes of violet from the two aliens.

Lance falls to his knees, panting heavily, and with great difficulty, Hunk pulls his gaze from his friend.

“We need to get down there,” he says urgently to Shiro, who’s watching the blue paladin with a rapt, horrified gaze.

For a moment, the black paladin doesn’t respond, and Hunk is worried that he’s caught in a flashback. “Shiro?” he questions cautiously, “Stay with me, man.”

“Yeah,” Shiro says, turning to look at Hunk, breathing more shallowly than usual, “Yeah. I’m good. You’re right.”

Hunk hadn’t been paying much attention before, aside from how he noted that the surrounding Galra were letting him watch, but now it strikes him how freakin’ _weird_ it is that they’re not being grabbed, or attacked, or anything. In fact, as Hunk moves to search for a way to get to Lance, he observes that the Galra are moving _away_ from them. Booing, jeering, sure, but not engaging. It makes little sense. But now’s not the time to speculate.

Apparently, Pidge disagrees, as she mutters, “What the fuck is with these soldiers?”

“Focus, dude,” Hunk reminds her, and she nods, but doesn’t look satisfied. Hunk can’t really blame her.

Hunk, not spotting an easy access point, begins to move around the barrier, circling in an attempt to find the source, or even a weak point. But as he moves, Lance’s next opponent appears in the dome.

Haggar.

“Shit!” he hears from behind him, presumably Keith. Pidge is muttering even more exotic curses, and Hunk is pretty sure he recognizes some Galran and Altean words in her vocabulary (seriously, where does she pick up these things? He makes a mental note to question her when everything is less hectic).

Hunk keeps one eye on the fight, even as he moves along the perimeter.

Lance is standing, albeit weakly, and has his blaster fixed in Haggar’s direction. But he’s not shooting, and Haggar’s monologue is echoing through the room.

“Blue paladin,” she croons, pink lightning crackling in her palms as she stares down Lance, unrelenting, “Finally, alone, and here. No one to help you.”

Dammit! Hunk can’t see a damn thing! The barrier, while invisible, feels perfectly solid at every point, and although he’s sure it’s way too see-through to be a material thing, he can’t find a projection point anywhere. How did they get Lance in there? How did Haggar get in there? It doesn’t make sense. Out of frustration, Hunk strikes the barrier with his fist. Nothing! Nothing at all!

“Do you see,” Haggar continues, leering at Lance in a way that makes Hunk’s blood boil, “How halfhearted their efforts are! They’re barely trying to help you. Not that they can, anyways. It is merely the two of us now.”

“It’s not true!” Hunk shouts angrily, continuing to hit the barrier even though he knows it’s not doing anything.

“It’s bullshit!” Pidge agrees.

“She’s a fucking liar!” Keith yells.

“We’re on our way, Lance!” Shiro concurs.

Lance seems to hearten at these reassurances enough for him to spit back, “What do you want, lady? You know I’m out of your league, right?”

_Yessss, Lance, slay_ , Hunk thinks with pride, even while he racks his brain for a solution. Crap, he’s always been the mechanical guy, not the plan guy. He turns hopefully to Shiro, only to find the same frustration there that he’s sure must be on his own face.

Haggar throws back her head and laughs, which makes Hunk cringe. Laughter should be a pleasant, pure sound, one expressing joy and happiness. Haggar’s laugh is raspy and horrible and brings thoughts of murdered puppies and kittens.

“If you think I desire you in that way, paladin, you are sorely mistaken,” Haggar hisses, smiling creepily, “I wonder, do you know the fate of your predecessor? Do you know who it was that slaughtered her?”

Oh, shit. This is about to get real, Hunk can tell that much. Lance seems to sense it as well, as he tenses even more than he already was and says, “I don’t need a history lesson, bitch.”

“Oh, but I think you do,” Haggar downright purrs back. Hunk shudders. She’s so damn creepy. “You see, the blue lion was intended for me to begin with. The former blue paladin stole her from me, and so she stole my destiny. I repaid her by tearing her heart out. Now, I intend to do the same to you.”

Haggar cackles again, glancing towards where the team watches anxiously. Hunk and her make eye contact for less than half of a second, but Hunk cringes back. Her eyes are the standard Galra yellow, so why do they appear so… empty? It’s horrifying.

“When I kill you, I tear your team’s heart out too, yes?” Haggar steps closer to Lance, who steps back. “Poor paladin. You think yourself so insignificant, and you truly are. Yet, ironically, your death will break them more than any of theirs.”

“Ok,” Lance snorts, “I think it’s time for you to shut up, lady.”

And he pulls the trigger on the blaster.

Haggar, of course, merely disappears, and pops up behind Lance. Hunk screams as her claws tear his throat, but she doesn’t make the finishing blow yet. She pierces him enough to draw blood, enough to warn the others.

As she traps Lance in an inescapable hold, she waves her other hand, and the dome, the room, the spectators, the bodies, they all disappear in a flash. Hunk blinks, and when he opens his eyes, it’s just the paladins and Haggar, alone in a large room, with Haggar ready to tear Lance’s throat out.

“What the-“ Hunk hears Keith mutter behind him, but that’s not really his focus at the moment. Instead, Hunk levels his blaster at Haggar, protective rage for his friend flickering in his stomach.

Shiro steps forward as well, his mechanical arm glowing. “Let him go, Haggar,” he says sternly.

She only laughs.

“Ah, the Champion, so brave,” Haggar hisses, stroking Lance’s cheek almost tenderly with her free hand. He shifts under her, but when beads of blood appear where her claws meet his throat, he goes very, very still again.

“I would not have thought you were so eager to return,” Haggar continues, clearly at ease in this situation, “Then again, I granted you power beyond which you could’ve conceived of. It is no wonder you crave more.”

“What,” Lance grits out, before Shiro can respond, “Do you want?”

Haggar looks at her prisoner with something almost akin to surprise. “I thought I answered that question, weakling. I want your blood to line the walls.”

“If you wanted that, you would’ve killed me already,” Lance snaps, trembling slightly at the toll this is taking on him. Oh, this is killing Hunk. His best friend can’t catch a break. He needs to do something, but what, _what_?

“So be it,” Haggar replies before Hunk can answer his own question, and before anyone can move, she moves her claws down and pierces Lance’s heart, straight through the armor.

Hunk doesn’t hate much. His mothers and his little sister always blessed him with positivity, and love. He’s always been a hugger, not a fighter. Not a warrior. He can count the number of times he’s been genuinely pissed or angry on his fingers.

But in that moment, watching Haggar kill his best friend?

Well.

Hunk loses it. Completely, totally, and absolutely. He rushes forward, the image of Lance collapsing with blood pouring from four small holes in his armor firmly engrained in his mind’s eye. And he shoots at Haggar with everything he’s got.

Beneath the rage, he’s aware of Keith and Shiro charging the witch as well. She’s disappearing and reappearing around the room in an effort to avoid their attacks, but for whatever reason, she seems unable to leave, and the three paladins attacking at once are beginning to overwhelm her. Pidge is huddled over Lance, doing something, but Hunk knows she can’t save him. Those aren’t the kind of wounds you come back from.

And then Pidge stands, and turns, with wide eyes, and screams at the top of her lungs, “Stop!”

Hunk stops.

So do Shiro, and Keith.

Even Haggar materializes in one place, seeming almost amused to hear what the green paladin has to say.

“He’s not dead,” Pidge says, calmly and certainly and completely contrasting the clear image behind her, Lance’s collapsed body, bent in ways it shouldn’t be bent, blood pouring out of it. The obvious lack of breath or movement or even the slightest twitch to let them know that hope isn’t lost. Hunk has killed enough Galra, albeit reluctantly, to know death. And Lance is dead. Lance is completely, irrevocably, absolutely dead.

“He’s not dead,” Pidge says again, 100% confident in her own words.

“Pidge,” Keith says quietly, his voice sounding so small and broken and despairing.

“He’s not dead,” Pidge repeats for the third time.

“Ridiculous,” Haggar spits, appearing behind Pidge without warning, and that’s when Lance sits up, and shoots her in the stomach with a blaster that Hunk didn’t even see before he wielded it.

What. The fucking. Hell.

Hunk is, obviously, relieved and overjoyed beyond words that Lance isn’t dead, but like, he’s still bleeding heavily from his chest? By the giant vivid maroon pool under him, staining his armor and seeping outwards, he should be near dead by blood loss anyways. There’s no possible way Lance could be alive. And yet, he’s twirling a small onehanded blaster around his finger and grinning at Hunk.

Haggar stumbles back, as Lance leisurely gets to his feet.

“Fuck,” he says thoughtfully, peering down at the red stream coming from his wound, “That hurts like a bitch.”

“I’ll bet,” Pidge says sympathetically, but she doesn’t seem overly worried.

_WHAT THE HELL IS GOING ON_ , Hunk wonders, his thought process obviously very calm right now.

“It’s ok, guys,” Lance reassures him, as he points his gun at Haggar once more, who seems unable to teleport what with the dark violet pouring from her abdomen. She looks up at Lance with genuine fear, and Lance sighs.

“Shit,” he murmurs regretfully, and then he shoots her once more.

And then everything fades away once more.

~

When Hunk opens his eyes again, he’s lying on the floor of the medical bay, his back aching and head spinning.

He brings a hand to his forehead, wincing, and feels the headband still secure on his temple.

“Oh!” says a light British voice, “Oh, thank goodness you’re finally awake!”

“Princess?” Hunk questions, feeling a bit woozy as he sits up. Around him, the others are doing the same.

“We were so worried! None of you were responding, and Coran thought the scent of Goyadush might awaken you, but even that failed!”

The princess looks exhausted, and is rushing around, checking all of their foreheads and performing basic scans on them. Hunk holds still while she reads off his temperature, and then stands when she announces it’s normal and moves on. He gingerly removes his headband, setting it on the ground.

None of the others have noticed yet, but Hunk does. Hunk sees his best friend sitting upright, legs swinging from the cot, watching the rest of his team with a small smile.

“Lance!” he cries, and surges forward. Lance laughs as Hunk embraces him tightly. The others notice the blue paladin’s revival at Hunk’s cry, and immediately turn and flock towards him.

“Oh, Lance, we were so worried!” Allura says, smiling at him gently and patting his shoulder.

“I thought Hunk told you not to scare us anymore!” Pidge snarls, lacking even the slightest hint of malice as she clutches his arm.

“Glad to have you back, kiddo,” Shiro says affectionately, ruffling Lance’s hair.

“What the hell happened?” Keith asks, grasping Lance’s hand in a way reminiscent of the bonding moment from what feels like forever ago (Hunk remembers. Lance may deny it, but Hunk remembers).

It’s this question that makes Lance’s weary, yet content expression melt into a more serious one. He looks significantly over Allura’s shoulder, and Hunk turns to see Coran there, holding the discarded headbands and looking more somber than usual.

“I think we need to have a talk,” Lance says.

Hunk doesn’t let go of Lance’s arm even a little as they make their way towards the rec room to settle down and have that heart-to-heart.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> me @ me: you gotta, like, write. you can't just stare at the blank page. you gotta actually type stuff to write a chapter.   
> me: sounds fake but okay
> 
> So, uh, sorry? For the huge delay? It's been a stressful past few weeks and what with approaching finals and an overload of end-of-the-year projects and shit to deal with, I've found little time to write. And the time I have found to write, I've had trouble writing anything decent. I've actually erased and completely rewritten this like four times now. I'm really sorry about the wait.   
> I didn't edit a whole lot, or even have anyone else read over it, so I'm sorry if it's weird in any places. It was kind of my intention for it to be strange and a tiny bit confusing, but I'm worried I made it too strange and confusing. Please leave me a comment and let me know if I fucked it up completely, I always appreciate your kind words and feedback! The bit at the end, what with them waking up, especially might be weird. I was going to save it for the next chapter (which may or may not be the final one haven't decided yet) but decided instead I'd rather give you a little hint as a sort of apology gift? *Does that make it better or does that make it weirder? Vote now on your phones!!!*  
> Finally. I dunno if any of you are even still reading this author's note. But. I would like to gauge interest-levels, for a sort of prequel but also not really centering on Haggar? Like, a background story for everyone's favorite murderous yet chic druid?? I have lots of ideas and theories that I hint at in this this story, so please let me know!  
> Love you, don't hate me, leave a comment please????   
> <3


	6. The Family Meeting

The first roadblock arrives before they’ve even started talking.

Shiro’s not surprised. Lance headed immediately for the rec room, all of the other paladins following without hesitation, Hunk perhaps a bit clingier than normal.  The problem, however, arose when Lance sat on the circular couch, and Hunk and Shiro immediately claimed the spots next to him.

Pidge, Keith, and Allura took issue with this (Shiro’s pretty sure Coran looked a little disgruntled, but the advisor is far too selfless to take action on a matter like this).

It took a solid half hour of bickering and assigning seating arrangements, but now, they’re curled up in the center of the couches, comfortably walled in and cozy on the soft, fluffy blankets taken directly from Allura’s bed. Lance sits in the middle of the floor, more stiffly than usual, and the other paladins are situated as such that they’re all within arm’s reach of the blue paladin.

Lance looks absolutely bewildered by their arguments and arrangements, and Shiro feels another stab of guilt. Does he not think he’s worthy to be fought over like this? When the black paladin glances around, he sees looks of sad understanding, underlain with a fierce protectiveness that he’s sure must be mirrored on his own face.

Shiro’s had his fair share of suffering in his life. He was tortured and forced to fight for the entertainment of others for an entire year. He watched Matt and Sam, his only connections to Earth, be dragged away from him, and then watched as other prisoners he formed attachments to were either taken away as well, or died painful deaths. He lost his arm. He killed innocents at the will of horrible beings for his own survival. Shiro has suffered.

But before Kerberos? No. Shiro had some troubles at school due to his biracial status, but for the most part, he had a hardworking father who instilled loyalty and morality in him from the beginning, and a caring mother who instilled kindness and patience. He never wanted for food or other necessities. He had a few bullies, but he had lots of friends too. He did well in school, and had a plethora of support to reaching his dreams- the Garrison, and then Kerberos. Along the way, he even sort of took in a little brother, who’s now resting against the couch with a protective scowl aimed at Lance.

Shiro can’t compare Lance’s suffering to his own, because they’re two entirely different types. Be it his family, the other prisoners, the paladins, or the Alteans, Shiro has always felt loved and supported, safe in the knowledge that others were behind him, even when he felt weak and defeated. He’s never known the loneliness that Lance felt his entire life, the neglect, the bullying. Shiro’s never felt alone.

All of the memories broke Shiro. They were heart wrenching, horrible insights into how Lance became who he is- someone so self-sacrificing, constantly placing others above himself because he doesn’t think he’s worthy. Faking obnoxious confidence to cover the fact that he has absolutely none, because he doesn’t want to be a burden. And he’s a damn good actor. Shiro didn’t know that before the memories, but he didn’t know nearly enough about Lance in general before the memories.

The one that really got to him though, the one that made Shiro want to sob and scream and hold Lance close like the little sibling Shiro thought of him as, was the letter one.

He knew before that Lance held some kind of hero-worship for him. It honestly kind of bothered him. People placing expectations on you like that isn’t really fun, or honoring, it’s just stressful and unfair. But the poster, the way Lance’s tear-filled eyes went to it, the despair held in his watery gaze- Shiro knew when he saw that that he himself had been more than just a hero to Lance. Nah, Shiro had been everything Lance had ever wanted to be. And when Lance got that rejection letter? Shiro could read his thoughts like a book. He felt like a failure. He felt like he’d disappointed everyone who’d ever believed him, he felt like he’d worked his whole life for nothing. Shiro knows, Shiro could tell, because he came so, so close to feeling that way himself too. But Shiro had his mom, patting his back and telling him in his anxiety-ridden days before his own letter arrived that she believed in him, and he’d do great.

Shiro did. Shiro did great, his letter was perfect, he achieved his goal. But Lance failed his, and he didn’t even have a support system.

Shiro wants to rip out his own hair in frustration.

Instead, he pats Lance’s knee, brushing his guilt-ridden thoughts away as Lance finally builds the courage to speak.

 “So, er,” Lance starts, clearing his throat, “I, uh, I don’t know how much you guys figured out. But it was Haggar. It was… It all went back to Haggar.”

“She was actually there, you mean?” Keith asks, wrinkling his brow, “She wasn’t just, uh, dreamed up or anything?”

“Nah,” Lance replies, waving a hand, “The druid that hit me, well, obviously it wasn’t Haggar herself who cast the magic or whatever it was, but I think it was a spell that Haggar created, and it kind of, uh, made a bond, or something? It was meant for me, anyways. Hunk was, well, Hunk was basically bait.”

 “That doesn’t make sense,” Pidge interjects, frowning, “Why you specifically? Surely she would’ve known that both Keith and I would’ve wanted to help Hunk, too. How did she know it’d be you who got there first?”

Shiro looks at Lance, quickly, hoping that Pidge’s onslaught of questions hasn’t cowed him. He’s a strong person, but, well, he’s never looked more vulnerable than on this day. Thankfully, Lance actually seems to perk up slightly at Pidge’s point. Shiro wonders if maybe he just needs a sense of normalcy. Too bad ‘normalcy’ is what led them to making Lance feel like he does, albeit unintentionally.

“I think she’s got some way of,” Lance hesitates, like he’s not sure how to phrase it, “Of seeing the future? Or maybe just certain events, I don’t know. From what I could pick up, the hag knew just about every single thing I was going to do before I did it. At least, in the dream world or whatever we’re calling it.”

“It would make sense in the ‘dream world’, if it was her who created it,” Shiro puts in, “But in the waking world? That’s a bit farfetched.”

“I dunno,” Lance says, raising his hands, “I’m putting together what I can.”

“Sorry,” Shiro says quickly, motioning for Lance to continue.

 “Anyways, she cast the spell, and created a sort of mental link. Not like,” Lance hesitates, contemplating his next sentence, “She wasn’t reading my thoughts, or anything. She couldn’t see my memories, not the stuff you could see. I don’t think she sensed you until, er, until we interacted. It was more like, she put pictures and images into my brain? She could make me see whatever she wanted me to see. A one-way connection.”

He nods, as if to reassure himself, and Shiro finds himself doing the same, silently encouraging Lance to tell them everything. There are so many gaping holes.

“I couldn’t tell, at first, that it was fake,” he admits, swallowing hard, “She put me in like, a torture simulation. It felt pretty real. I thought I’d actually been captured at first.”

Hell. Shiro knows what that’s like. The poor kid.

“The whole mind thing happened with you guys, and I thought that was just a nightmare. And then I woke up, or I thought I woke up anyways, and I was in an arena-sort of place. Scared the hell out of me. When you guys appeared there, that’s when I started to question it.”

“Forgive me,” Allura interrupts him, gently, “I must admit I know little of what went on when you were all under the influence of the headbands. But… you’re saying Haggar was able to not only force you into a realistic simulation, but the other paladins as well, through the mental link?”

“Uh, yeah,” Lance agrees. The other paladins are nodding as well, and Allura appears very disturbed by this.

“That’s unlike any druid magic I’ve ever heard of,” she says quietly, but she seems to be speaking more to herself than to them, and when she glances up to find all of their eyes still on her, she shakes her head. “My apologies. Lance, please continue.”

“Oh,” Lance says, “There’s not much more to continue. I just… I dunno, there were a lot of little things that clued me in. And when I finally put the pieces together, well… the whole death thing on my part was a bit of gamble. We weren’t supposed to know it was fake, so I was kind of hoping that that would take away some of Haggar’s power.”

“Pretty brilliant of you, Lance,” Pidge says, grinning at him, and he blushes a little, unused to the praise. This makes Shiro grin too as Pidge continues, “Figured it out before I did, anyways. What I want to know, is what happened to Haggar? How’d you know killing her would end it? Did you even kill her?”

Lance hesitates. “I… I don’t know. I don’t know whether she’s dead or not. I would say no, since it was all mental. But it was her running the show, so I think me shooting her was like taking scissors to the bond. Snapped it in two, waking us up and, I don’t know, maybe sending her reeling a bit. I’m pretty sure that she can’t access my mind anymore, though.”

Well, that’s a relief, anyways. Shiro relaxes, tension unraveling that he hadn’t even realized he had had since they’d awoken.

“There’s something I still don’t get, though,” Keith says, looking at Lance curiously, “Why you?”

“Didn’t Haggar kind of answer that?” Pidge responds before Lance can say anything. “It was because he’s the blue paladin, right?”

“Haggar talked about having a history with the blue paladin,” Lance agrees, and he glances at Allura as he says, “Haggar killed her, apparently. That’s about all I got.”

Allura sighs heavily, looking very troubled. “Yes. Your last predecessor was a Galra woman called Zhia. I… I know little more than that. Only that Zhia was the second paladin in all the lions history to be Galran. Zarkon was the only other Galra who’d ever been chosen. Zarkon, the people accepted, due to his being emperor. But Zhia was of common blood, and I believe many Alteans were discontent with her. Coran, do you know more?”

Coran frowns, stroking his mustache. “Er, no, princess. I knew Zhia myself, but only briefly. She was a good soldier. Sadly, her end was as swift and shrouded in mystery as the other three paladins.”

Lance appears thoughtful upon hearing this, but he doesn’t look in any way shocked to hear that his predecessor was a Galra. Shiro wonders if he knew something about this before now. He makes a mental note to ask Lance about it on a different day, when things are less… strenuous.

Now, Shiro is concerned with other things. That was the easy part, and they all know it. Onto the more difficult subjects. Shiro’s been dreading having to discuss this, but he knows they have to. And no one else is going to initiate, that’s for certain. Here goes.

“Lance,” he says tentatively, and from the look Lance gives him, Shiro can tell that the blue paladin knows what’s coming. “I think we need to discuss the memories. And the… the confrontation.”

Yeah. That’s a word for it, anyways.

Lance lets out a heavy sigh, swallowing hard, before meeting Shiro’s gaze again. Shiro is surprised slightly at the strength, the solidness he sees there. They saw Lance at his most vulnerable point today, and yet, he seems to be brushing off the emotional burden that creates in favor of staying strong, even if only for the moment.

Maybe it’s not a good thing, though. Shiro doesn’t want Lance brushing off his fears and insecurities. Not anymore. That talk is coming next.

“My parents are good people,” Lance says firmly, “I’m not entirely sure which memories you saw, but I know they were of my childhood, and you need to know that my parents love me, and have always wanted the best for me. There are eight of us, you can’t blame them for anything.”

Uh, Shiro can, and he does. But he also gets the feeling that that’s not the best way to phrase it to Lance.

“Lance, that’s not exactly-“

Shiro starts to speak, but Lance cuts him off with a request.

“Before we get into that, can you tell me exactly what you saw? Please?”

Shiro knows Lance is asking because he wants to gauge what they know. He’s asking so that he doesn’t accidently reveal more than they’re already aware of. Even now, Lance is still trying to close himself off. He doesn’t want to burden them.

Shiro saw enough of his thought process during the memories to tell.

But he also knows that they can’t say no to Lance. They need Lance to open up, to be more honest about his feelings, but telling him off like that would be the wrong way to go about it. Lance has a right to know exactly what they saw.

So Shiro doesn’t protest as Hunk begins to describe what they saw. He glances at Allura and Coran, periodically, and note that they appear to be listening carefully. Of course, they didn’t see it, and although Lance’s eyes are on Hunk, Shiro wonders if he’s bothered by the fact that the Alteans are learning of his past, too, without his express permission.

When Hunk finishes, Lance is flushed, staring at his lap, his mouth a tight line. “Ok,” he mumbles quietly, “Ok.”

“Lance,” Shiro tries gently, sympathetic, “It’s alright. None of what we saw changes the way we think about you.”

That’s not true, strictly speaking. Shiro is going to be putting a lot more thought into his general attitude and response towards Lance from now on. But Lance doesn’t need to hear that, he needs to hear that they still love him, that they don’t think less of him. It’s the same thing Shiro had needed to hear when the team discovered his PTSD issues, the same Keith needed to hear when the team discovered his heritage. Lance may be a little fucked up- aren’t they all- but they still love him just the same.

 “I know,” Lance replies, although his posture still suggests otherwise. “My parents loved me, ok? They were busy. Don’t pin my problems on them.”

“Lance,” Shiro murmurs, reaching forward to grasp the boy’s hand, “Your parents loved you, I’m sure, and yes, they had eight kids, but that’s not an excuse. You were, what, nine, ten, in that first one? There’s no excuse for ignoring a child like they did, Lance.”

“It’s not their fault,” Lance protests, “I was good with kids and not much else, of course I’m gonna be the babysitter. It’s not their fault.”

“What about your sister?” Keith asks suddenly, and Lance turns to him warily. “You said something about her telling you… Bad stuff. Do you think she was doing the best she could too?”

“Thea is none of your business,” Lance says tightly, “She was trying to keep me from reaching too high. She meant well.”

“Did she?” Keith challenges, and he’s glaring at Lance, but Shiro can tell that’s not where his anger is being directed. “Didn’t look that way when you were crying on your bed, alone.”

Lance’s mouth becomes a thin line. Maybe they’re pushing too hard.

“She didn’t know about that,” Lance says, “She meant well. She didn’t mean to hurt me in any way.”

“Lance, that doesn’t make it ok,” Shiro says, taking effort to keep his voice calm and non-argumentative. He doesn’t want Lance feeling attacked, or getting any more defensive. But he also needs to recognize where some of his problems stem from. What his parents did, what Thea did, intentional or not, it wasn’t not ok. “They loved you, but the blame still falls on them, for starting the hurt, just like the blame falls on us, for not recognizing that you were hurting, and just like the blame falls on you, for not telling either of us that you were hurting.”

Lance considers this, and Shiro is hoping that Lance understands. He needs Lance to understand. They can’t move further until Lance understands.

Lance’s expression remains the same, blank and unrevealing, but his eyes spill his secrets, and it’s there, in those deep oceans, that Shiro can see the emotions flickering past. Confusion. Doubt. Contemplation. And then, much to Shiro’s distress, it settles on anger.

“Lance,” he says quickly, not wanting this to escalate, but christ, Lance’s anger is _scary_ , and he’s heating up. Shiro’s never seen the blue paladin get genuinely angry _once_ before today. Fuck, today has been messed up.

“No,” Lance says, “No! I understand what you’re saying, and it makes sense, sure, but you don’t have a right to say those things.”

“Lance,” Shiro says again, weakly, but Lance isn’t even _close_ to being done.

“I know what you’re trying to do here,” Lance says, and he’s looking around at all of them, not just Shiro, and all of them, not just Shiro, are shrinking back slightly. “I get that you’re trying to help, but you don’t have the right to lecture me about my family when you aren’t even supposed to know those things.”

Lance is shaking slightly, and Shiro swallows, hard.

“You guys went inside my mind,” Lance spits angrily, and it’s a different kind of anger than what they saw in his mind, the version of Lance that had no boundaries, that tore into them. That was what Lance could’ve been, had he been less kind, and Shiro wonders if he’s been that Lance ever before- if there’s ever been anyone who’s pushed Lance to be that.

This Lance, though, this anger is less hard. This anger is not the rock solid anger, this anger is the emotional kind, the kind that comes with betrayal, and sadness, and fear, the kind that shows exactly how much Lance cares. His voice trembles slightly, and his blue eyes shine with unshed tears. This anger is softer, more revealing, yet easily just as intimidating. Shiro’s lip trembles too, and he bites it. Not now.

“That’s a line that’s not meant to be crossed,” Lance continues, oblivious to Shiro’s distress, or maybe he’s ignoring it right now, “It’s… It’s my mind. You can’t just do that! You were never supposed to see that shit! Those memories belonged to me and me alone, and I can’t believe you would just take them like that, and come back here lecturing me about them as if you have a right to know a damn thing in the first place! You don’t know shit about my parents, or Thea, or my emotions! You have no right!”

He’s… he’s not wrong. Shiro doesn’t know what to say. It was important, is important, that Lance recognizes the faults with his upbringings. But he’s right in that they shouldn’t even know about it. Well, they should, but not like this. Lance should’ve been the one to tell them. They didn’t have a right to just invade his mind like they did. And though Shiro knows it was necessary, he also sees now that taking that they know about his past as a matter of fact, and not even apologizing, not even acknowledging the issue, that was a mistake.

Dammit! They keep doing this. This is the same thing that kicked off this entire shitfest of emotions- they didn’t pay close enough attention to Lance, didn’t watch his feelings as carefully as they did the rest of them.

“I understand why you did it,” Lance snarls, tears running down his face, “And I understand why you’re saying the things you’re saying. But that doesn’t mean it’s ok.”

Shiro can’t find the words that need to be said. An apology, words of comfort, something. Shiro can’t find it. But Coran, beautiful mustached man that he is, can. And he does.

He scooches forward, taking Lance’s hands in his own. Lance is breathing hard, but he quiets to listen to the older man. Coran has certainly earned as much.

“Lance, my boy, you must understand- they say and do these things because they love you. They cannot bear to lose you, to see you suffer. Everything they did, everything we do, is because we care. We all do. We all care so much, my boy.”

Lance squeezes his eyes shut, tears continuing to leak out. Shiro leans forward, resting a hand on Lance’s shoulder. 

“He’s right,” Shiro murmurs softly, “We’re sorry. We’re so sorry.”

And then he envelops the boy in his arms, exactly as he used to Keith when Keith was in a not so good place. For a moment, Lance stiffens, resisting, and Shiro is prepared to release him if he shows the slightest sign of still being angry. But then Lance relaxes into Shiro’s arms, his body shaking.

“You’ve become like a brother to me, Lance,” Shiro murmurs into his hair, “I couldn’t not do anything. I’m sorry. You’re right. I don’t know your parents, or Thea, and I don’t know you as much as I should. I’m sorry.”

There’s a long moment that passes, before-

“I forgive you,” Lance bursts out, just loud enough for the others to catch, and a part of Shiro wishes he hadn’t, not so easily. Most of what Lance said was true, and Shiro doesn’t want to guilt or manipulate the kid into forgiving them.

But when Lance pulls away slightly, and Shiro sees the sadness, the vulnerability in his eyes, Shiro knows that Lance understands it all perfectly now. He’s not forgiving Shiro because he feels guilty, he’s forgiving Shiro because he needs to forgive Shiro, he needs to feel loved after being alone for so long.

“Just,” Lance takes a breath as he speaks, quietly, “Don’y badmouth my family when you don’t know them. I can see… I can see that you mean well, and what you said is probably right even. But… you can’t do that. It’s not your business.”

Shiro nods, pulling Lance in closer. He’s angry at himself, for screwing up _again_ , but it’s alright. They’re mending things. Slowly, unsteadily, but they are.

“C’mere, you,” Hunk bawls out of the blue, seemingly unable to just sit back and watch anymore, and Shiro laughs slightly as he and Lance are both pulled into the yellow paladin’s embrace. Quickly, it delves into a group hug, Pidge wrapping her arms around Lance and Coran insistently pulling in both Allura and Keith so that all of them are now in a sort of cuddle pile.

It’s… nice.

Too bad there’s still one more thing they need to talk about.

Shiro doesn’t want to ruin the moment, though, and he puts off bringing up what he knows they need to discuss. They sit together, comfortably, as a family, listening to Coran prattle on with one of his Altean stories. Shiro is only half listening.

After a while, Coran stops talking, and they sit in comfortable silence. It can’t last, though. Pidge brings it up before Shiro does.  

“Lance?” she asks, tentatively. She’s still kind of wrapped around him, but they’ve shifted, so that he’s got an arm on her back too. The two are both leaning against Shiro, and not only are they both adorable, but it’s also really warm and cozy. Shiro had almost forgotten what it was like to cuddle with family.

“Yeah, pigeon?” Lance’s voice is a bit weaker than normal, but that’s probably to be expected. He’d been shouting and crying only a while ago, after all.

“Did you..,” Pidge pauses, biting her lip, and then continues on in a rush. “Did you really think we hated you?”

The silence becomes slightly less comfortable, as everyone goes still, waiting for Lance’s response. He deliberates for a moment.

“No,” he decides, finally, and the momentary relief is immediately tempered by his next words. “I never thought you hated me. I thought you guys didn’t really care about me, I guess.”

Pidge looks up at Shiro in horror.

“How could you think that?” Pidge questions, her amber eyes wide and distressed, “Was it my jokes? Did I go too far?”

“Sometimes,” Lance admits, “But it’s not your fault, Pidge. I don’t like worrying people, so when my feelings get hurt, I just laugh it off. And then I convince myself that you didn’t notice I was only pretending to laugh because you didn’t care. It’s dumb, and it’s not your fault.”

Maybe, or maybe not. Shiro blames himself a little, for not noticing. A good leader is supposed to see those things, after all. But that kind of thinking doesn’t help anyone.

Instead, Shiro says, “You can’t do that anymore, Lance."

Lance lets out a deep sigh, but doesn’t respond, so Shiro goes on, “You can’t hide your feelings from us anymore. When you’re sad, or anxious, or homesick, or just feel bad, you need to tell us.”

His tone is gentle, but also reprimanding.

“No more masks, Lance,” Allura says, ever so gently, and Lance looks at her in surprise. She smiles at him, sad and kind. “I’m usually better with emotions. Perhaps it is because you are human, or perhaps I simply did not pay enough attention. But I understand your grief and your pain. You must talk to us.”

Lance lets out another sigh, but he’s nodding. “Yeah. Yeah, I will. No more hiding.”

“That goes for everyone!” Pidge growls, sending a pointed look in Shiro’s direction. “This was all because of fucking Haggar, but it was made fifty times worse by people hiding things. We’re in space, ok, we’re all each of us has got. We gotta have each other’s backs.”

_Language_ , Shiro thinks, but he’s all but given up on correcting it by now.

“She’s right,” Hunk agrees, “As some very wise people once said, we’re all in this together.”

A pause. Shiro cracks a smile.

“Exactly,” Pidge agrees, looking like she’s holding back laughter, “We have to get our heads in the game.”

“Break the status quo,” Lance chimes in, nodding seriously.

“That way, we can be soarin’, flyin’,” Hunk says, masking giggles.

Keith and the Alteans look extremely confused.

“Shiro, what’re they talking about?” Keith asks, eyes wide.

“Us being a team,” Shiro replies seriously, “What team, guys?”

“ _Wildcats_!” Lance, Pidge, and Hunk chorus, at the same time as Keith tentatively responds, “Voltron..?”

The four look at Keith, and a second passes before they erupt into laughter. It’s a welcome respite from the heavy conversation they were having only moments ago, and Shiro lets himself laugh loudly and enjoy the moment.

“I don’t get it,” Keith grumbles, but that only makes them laugh harder.

They’ve got a lot to work on. But they’re getting there.

They’re getting there.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mom: What on earth is going on with you?????  
> Me, letting out unearthly shrieks and rolling around on my bed as I wave my arms above my head and grin like a maniac: They left a nice comment
> 
> I'll try to keep this one short, since I wrote an entire book in the comments last one. I dislike this chapter. I'm not a fan of lengthy dialogue, honestly, and I don't think it's my strong suit. I wasn't able to edit as much as I liked. But your support and comments are just about the best thing in the entire universe, and your comments on the last chapter were so kind and incredible, so I'm making an effort to stop judging my own work so harshly. Thank you all so much!!! 
> 
> What do you think? Should I end it here, or tie up a couple of loose ends with an epilogue? Should I write a one shot or story exploring Zhia a bit more, or Haggar? Anything you wanna know? Let me know! If any of you are writers, then you definitely understand that comments make the world go around. A single comment, no matter how mundane, evokes the aforementioned response. No exaggeration. I love your feedback.  
> Thank you, and once more, you guys are literally the best people in the entire world!


	7. Epilogue

“Hush!” Lance hisses behind him, annoyed. He glances back in time to see the red and black paladins go deathly still at his scolding and huffs indignantly. Shaking his head slightly, he turns back to the task at hand.

It’s… a long ways away. The white box is, like, the size of his fingernail at this distance. Still, he’s made harder shots. He can do it. He can do it.

He breathes deeply, and then holds it, peering over his rifle. Steady, steady… Hunk and Pidge are depending on him, he can’t let them down.

He waits for half a second, and then… there! Lance squeezes the trigger, bracing himself for the recoil. For a moment, he watches anxiously- then he sees the box sparking, and the pod containing an entire fleet of Galra drones slows, and then begins to fall to the planet’s surface.

“Yes!” Lance crows, jumping up and pumping his fist victoriously. That’s three for three!

“Nice job, Lance!” Shiro says proudly, ruffling his hair a bit, and Lance grins at him.

“Good work, sharpshooter,” Keith murmurs, clapping him on the back and giving him a small smile. Lance blinks, but returns the smile nonetheless. He’s still not entirely used to this whole ‘praise’ thing. Like, sure, the team complimented him before, but it was kind of few and far in between. Doing something right, and immediately being acknowledged and praised for it? It’s pretty damn cool.

He stretches, allowing his bayard to return to its dormant state. He’s been lying on his stomach, waiting for his targets to appear, for an entire hour. They were all much the same in appearance, although the last one was notably more difficult, primarily due to two distractions who decided to join him on his perch when they got bored waiting.

It doesn’t matter. He made the shots, thank God, and the particular prison that Hunk and Pidge are infiltrating have no backup, leaving the green and yellow paladins free to make a clean escape.

Lance had been perching on Blue’s snout, giving him a high vantage point to do his job from. Now, he swings down into her open mouth, making Shiro loose a startled exclamation.

“Don’t just jump off the side like that, Lance!” he says into the comms, shaking his head even as he follows the same route into Blue’s cockpit. Keith is close behind, but he just smiles at Lance as he grasps the back of Lance’s chair. Keith has been smiling a lot more lately. It’s an interesting change.

There have been a lot of interesting changes, come to think of it, and most of them have been quite good. Like how Allura actually makes an effort to hear Lance out, rather than just assuming he’s joking or flirting. Or how Pidge, while still making sassy and sometimes biting comments, is becoming better at noticing when she’s gone too far, and apologizing for it.

The whole team dynamic has changed, in fact. They’re all making more of an effort in team bonding and stuff. For the most part, it’s nice, especially as Lance is encouraged to tell all of them when he’s feeling worthless or homesick. Admittedly, he still doesn’t always. He’s been in the habit of masking his emotions for most of his life. Habits like that don’t break overnight.

But he’s making progress, the same as everyone else. He’s just glad they’re not all tiptoeing around him anymore, like he’s some fragile thing. For an entire week after the whole Haggar fiasco, they acted like he was made of glass. That was a bit frustrating. It passed, thankfully.

“Alright, team Blue!” Coran’s voice sound over the comms, and Lance grins as he hears the older Altean using the team names he’d jokingly suggested they utilize. Shiro lets out a small sigh, shaking his head, but he’s smiling. “All of the prisoners have been recovered. Head on over and escort Teams Yellow and Green to the castle!”

“Will do,” Lance replies promptly, and Shiro and Keith clutch the back of his seat as he directs Blue off of her cliffside spot. Lance sideeyes Shiro for a moment, deciding, and then thinks, ah, what the hell.

Time to have a little fun.

Blue purrs amusement in his mind as, instead of launching off of the rockface, Lance urges Blue to just kind of. Fall.

The giant lion tumbles through the air, looking to an outside observer as if she’d just shut down, and is now simply plummeting towards the planet below. Shiro cusses, loudly, much to Lance’s amusement, and holds on for dear life in order to not go flying around the cockpit.

“Lance!” Shiro yells, and Lance laughs, enjoying at the exhilaration of just freefalling with his lion.

The rocky planet surface below draws nearer, and, seconds before they crash into the ground, Lance pulls up. Blue banks sharply, her paws dragging along the ground for a second, and Lance lets out a joyous whoop.

“Dammit, Lance,” Shiro breathes, shaking his head, and Lance laughs again.

“C’mon,” he says, “I gotta have some fun once in a while.”

“Maybe just a little warning, next time,” Keith suggests, and Lance is delighted to see the small upwards quirk of the red paladin’s lips. He enjoyed it too.

“Yeah, yeah,” Lance agrees, waving a hand noncommittally as he pilots Blue in the direction of the retreating yellow and green forms, providing a distant escort as Coran requested.

“What’d he do?” Pidge asks curiously, voice crackling over the comms.

“Doesn’t matter,” Shiro answers, and Lance chuckles.

Allura opens a wormhole before they can even disembark from their lions. Lance feels the telltale jolt right as Blue’s mouth is opening, releasing the paladins inside. Lance feels a tinge of curiosity, but elects to head over the green hangars rather than the bridge.

He manages to arrive before all of the former prisoners have headed off, and joins Pidge as she’s performing some quick checkups on the last of them.

“Only a couple need a healing pod,” she informs Lance as he peers over her shoulder at the readings on the hologram. “And they’re not even seriously injured. This particular prison seems significantly less brutal than other ones we’ve seen.”

“Probably because it was mostly drones who ran the joint, right?” Lance suggests, “You said there were only a couple furry ones. Robots don’t take pleasure in roughing people- er, aliens- up, I guess.”

“That’s probably true,” Pidge agrees, as the last alien checks out perfectly, and turns to thank the green paladin profusely.

It’s a fuzzy blue thing, with four each of eyes, ears, arms, and legs, and a long feathered tail that’s adorned similar to a peacock. Most of the aliens that were transported on Pidge’s ship, at least, appear to be of the same species, all mottled different colors.

“My planet,” it says, it’s voice deep and vibrating through the floor they stand on, “will want to thank you themselves. For returning us, their voyagers, they will hold a thousand banquets in your honor.”

“Uh, I think just one will probably suffice,” Pidge replies, glancing at Lance, “But that sounds cool. Do you wanna come and tell Princess Allura your planet’s coordinates?”

It agrees, humming with pleasure, and Pidge escorts it in the direction of the bridge. Now left alone in the cockpit of the green lion with about thirty other aliens, Lances takes action. He leads them to rooms outside of the med bay, which is where they usually have the rescuees wait. Hunk is already there, with a crowd that is, in fact, slightly larger, but also the same species.

“Race-specific prison?” Hunk asks Lance as the blue paladin approaches, and Lance shrugs.

They wait there, mingling with the aliens a bit until Allura calls them up to the bridge over the intercoms.

“Miss me already, Princess?” Lance calls as he enters the room. She rolls her eyes, but Lance is heartened to see that she appears amused rather than annoyed. Lance isn’t sure exactly what got the message across in these past few weeks, but her entire demeanor towards Lance seems to have shifted now that she’s grasped the fact that he’s not and was never actually interested in her romantically. Now, the flirting is more like an inside joke. It might help that Allura’s seen him mock flirt with most of the rest of the team by this point, too.

“Nyfra here tells me that her planet is nearby, and likely remains unconquered,  Allura announces, “She also reveals that her people will likely want to honor us when we arrive.”

Same thing the alien told Pidge, then. Lance grins. He can get behind a banquet. They haven’t gotten to enjoy something like that in far too long.

~

Lance may have faked a lot of things, but one thing he’s always been honest about is how much he adores parties.

Any kind. Birthdays, graduations, housewarmings, planet liberations, Lance doesn’t care. If it’s something vaguely exciting, in Lance’s opinion, it deserves a party.

And damn. Nyfra’s species- called the weverners, if he heard correctly- sure know how to party.

The food, the music, the decorations, all are very alien. The atmosphere, however, is reminiscent of every birthday party he’s ever had, and Lance is having the time of his life as he dances and eats and talks. The few glimpses he’s caught of his teammates since the party began have revealed that they seem to be enjoying themselves too, if slightly less than Lance.

It must be hours, before Lance finally excuses himself from the festivities in order to grab a breath of fresh air. The weverners’ palace is as large and as grand as their castle ship, although Lance is pretty sure that the weverners’ castle doesn’t fly. Mostly because it’s made of stone.

It does, however, have large and grand balconies all the same, and it’s there that Lance goes to catch a break.

The planet they’re on now is mostly stone. From what he’s gathered, all of the water is underground here. They have an elaborate welling system in order to draw it up, but they have no lakes or anything like it. In the daytime, according to Nyfra, it gets so hot that any surface water evaporates.

It’s a shame. Lance would like to see the ocean right now.

He stands out there for a bit, sipping a drink he’d nabbed just before heading out, and staring at the complex rock formations in the distance. The air is cool, and closer to Earth’s atmosphere than any he’s breathed in a long time (although he can still tell it’s not. It’s subtle, but different).

He’s about to return to the banquet when someone else joins him.

“Bit chilly out here, hm?”

Lance jumps. He’d heard the footsteps approaching, but out of anyone he might’ve expected to follow him out here, he wasn’t really expecting Pidge.

Don’t get him wrong, Lance knows Pidge has been making many efforts to be more aware of other’s emotions, and for that, he’s very grateful. But she’s still not really the ‘heart-to-heart’ type, and if the team were to suspect something was going on with Lance (again), she’s not the one he figured they would send.

Yet here she stands, peering at him with an eyebrow raised.

“Not really,” Lance replies thoughtfully, inhaling deeply as he says, “Kinda similar to Earth’s atmosphere, don’t you think?”

“Ish?” Pidge shrugs. “There’s a much higher nitrogen percentage here. It’s like, 87%, whereas on Earth it’s only 80%. They both contain mostly the same gases though, even if the amounts are skewed.”

“Nerd.”

“Dumbass.”

Lance grins. Their bickering is an old and familiar routine, and Lance can’t help but feel relieved that that hasn’t changed.

Despite the easy words exchanged, however, it’s clear something is weighing on Pidge. The way she stands, far more tense than usual. The way she’s tugging at bits of her armor, fidgeting with her glasses. The way she’s biting her lip. All telltale signs that Pidge has something a bit more serious on her mind.

“Did you come out here to ask me something?” Lance questions, side eyeing the girl curiously.

“Er..,” Pidge hesitates, “Uh, are you ok? You seemed a little, I dunno, lonely out here.”

Ok, so they’re dancing around the question apparently, since it’s clear that that is not what Pidge wanted to ask. It’s alright, though, Lance will humor her.

“I’m alright,” he says truthfully, “A little homesick, maybe, but nothing out of the norm.”

“That’s… good.” Pidge taps the balcony railing, and Lance can practically see her turning something over and over in her mind. He waits patiently. When Pidge has something on her mind, she can never keep it in for _that_ long.

Perfectly on cue, she blurts out, “Tell me about Thea.”

 Lance stares at her, bewildered. That came out of absolutely nowhere. Briefly, he wonders if Shiro puts her up to this. If they’re still on about Lance’s family. Then he dismisses it. Pidge would never agree to something like that.

“Is there any particular reason you’re asking?” he says cautiously. Even if she wouldn’t agree to do that, she’s got to have some other motive. No one has made mention of Lance’s family since they had the big discussion a few weeks ago.

She swallows, but when she speaks, her voice is carefully steady. “I… I’ve been thinking a lot about what role I played in the whole shitstorm. I… in the memories, it was clear Thea discouraged you. I’m not passing judgement, I swear. I just… I want to know what she was like, for you to defend her so avidly. Even when she maybe wasn’t the best sister.”

Lance softens. He sees what this is about now.

“I’ll be honest,” he says, “You remind me a bit of her. But I think what you guys saw in the memories was… a bit skewed. You didn’t get the full picture.”

Pidge looks at him imploringly, and he holds up his hands. “Yeah, yeah. Be patient, pigeon.”

She scoffs, but that only makes him chuckle. Lance takes a moment to search for the right words before he says, “Thea’s very bold. Very brave. She speaks honestly, and doesn’t take shit from anyone. She’s also crazy smart, and even if she doesn’t show it, she cares about the people around her a lot. That’s kind of why you remind me of her.”

He glances at Pidge, who’s looking at him curiously with large amber eyes, and debates whether he should tell her the next part or not. If it were anyone but Pidge, he thinks he’d refrain. But this girl is basically his little sister by this point. He trusts her.

“Thea isn’t like you, however, in that she never thinks before she speaks. She never really meant any harm, on the night I announced my application. She blurted out something about how difficult the entrance exams for the Garrison are, and how hard it is to pilot a ship. She said she’d read books about it, and… and that there was no way I was really equipped to do these things.”

Lance shakes his head, smiling ruefully. That night had certainly been chaotic. “Moment she said it, she clapped her hands over her mouth, like it was a mistake. But then Mamá got angry at her, and she just kind of automatically defended herself. It escalated into this huge fight. I don’t remember all of it, only that Thea came to apologize to me after it all. I was angry, obviously, and it didn’t help when the first thing she told me was that she stood by what she’d said.”

Pidge scowls at this. “This really doesn’t make me think any better of her, Lance,” Pidge bites out, but Lance just laughs.

“I’m not done yet. She told me that she stood by what she said, but then she told me that she knew me really well. She said I’m crazy smart, but I didn’t really test well. Still don’t, to be honest. And, at the time, I wasn’t a big fan of heights, which was an issue. She said that I have great language and people skills, and that she thought me becoming a pilot would throw that away.”

Lance glances at Pidge again, and sees that she’s still frowning, but it’s less angry. More… thoughtful.

“She said some mean things that really hurt me, and stuck with me, I won’t lie,” Lance says, “But I know she had my best interests at heart. She still does. She didn’t really realize how much it would hurt me. She doesn’t think through her actions and words. Does that help, at all?”

Pidge considers this. “A bit. My opinion of her isn’t raised all that much, though, even with that.”

“That wasn’t the point,” Lance says, “The point was that she may have done some shitty things, but she loves me, and I love her, and it’s for that reason that I forgave her so easily. The same way I forgave you guys. The same way I forgive you, even when you say mean shit.”

Pidge snorts, but she seems to have relaxed somewhat.

“I’d defend you the exact same way, you know,” Lance informs her, “If anyone tried to talk shit about you. I’d get up in their faces. Doesn’t matter what role you played, or what you’ve done. You’re family, Pidge, and that shit’s in the past. Yeah?”

He ruffles her hair affectionately to emphasize his point, and she playfully shoves him away. He retaliates by pulling her in for a hug. He can tell she doesn't mind by how feeble the struggles are.

“Man,” she sighs out as she shoves Lance's face away, “Keith is gonna be so jealous of our bonding moment.”

Lance bursts out laughing.

~

Everything didn’t instantly get better after they talked it out. Shiro still sometimes snaps at Lance instead of hearing him out. Allura sometimes ignores his suggestions. Keith sometimes targets his aggression at Lance instead of channeling it in a healthy way.

They did some damage, and one teary talk isn’t going to fix it. But, as Lance sits there, teasing Pidge, poking her in the stomach to get her to laugh, just like he used to do with his little siblings, he knows that isn’t what’s important.

It’s not gonna be fixed instantaneously. It may never even be entirely fixed. But they’re working on it. When they fuck up, they realize it, and they make amends. They're willing to acknowledge and own up to it when they make mistakes now, and that makes all the difference.

It’s exactly as he told Pidge. They're family now. They all care so much, and it’s for that, that Lance forgives them.                          

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whew. 30,000+ words. Not that much, in the grand scheme of things, but easily the longest thing I've ever published online. Didn't think I'd actually finish this thing, to be honest. 
> 
> I wanted to tie up some loose ends with Thea. Explain exactly what she did, and why Lance is still super defensive of her and the rest of his family, and why he's so quick to forgive his space family. I also wanted to throw in some more Pidge bonding, because she definitely blames herself for her role in Lance not being ok. I left the angst out of this chapter, instead trying to explain the new dynamic a bit, as well as some team shenanigans.
> 
> Did you notice how they accepted that it was Lance being Lance when he screws around a bit? They're learning!! They're accepting the boy!! Development! 
> 
> Uh, sorry for throwing morals and shit at you in the end there, haha. Lance is, I think, a very forgiving person though, and I feel that's important. 
> 
> I've got several works in progress that I'll post here, in the indefinite future, and I'm thinking I might start writing some prompts on tumblr. Again, hit me up anytime @spaceisgaygayisspace. Thanks for reading and sticking with me this whole way. This was a huge milestone for me. If there's anything you want to know, please, leave a comment! You guys are amazing!!
> 
> The end? I guess?

**Author's Note:**

> Hey hey, y'all.  
> My first fanfiction, and of course it's yet another langst story. Hahaha, whoops. (Like we don't have enough of those already...)  
> Hope everyone likes it, and I would like to stress that, if I didn't make it clear in the story and tags and summary and everything, Shiro! Needs! Sleep! and Allura! Also! Needs! Freaking! Sleep!  
> Neither of them are the villains of this story. I already have a plan for exactly where I want to go with this, but it's important you understand I am not villainizing the team. They sometimes (always) don't sleep enough, and tend to lash out because of that. They all care very very much about Lance even if he doesn't realize it.  
> Just wanted to make that clear.  
> Thanks!


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